


Lost Nations

by Scorpius02



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, America and Canada not discovered by England and France, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers America & Canada (Hetalia), Gen, No Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-03-31 21:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 73,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13983567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius02/pseuds/Scorpius02
Summary: Two immortal brothers, who had wandered the North American continent for many years while hiding their identity, decided to settle temporarily in a town. They never knew what they were until strange people began to arrive in town for some secret meeting. Modern AU: If America and Canada weren't found by the European nations.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Suddenly had this crazy inspiration and urge to write a Hetalia fanfic of America and Cananda if they weren't found by the European nations. Inspired by The Eternal American by cakuramen and The Anonymity of Watching From Afar by hedgehogkween. Please check them out.
> 
> I do not own Hetalia

As far as he could remember, he had always been surrounded by the thick trees of the forest and the soft earth beneath his feet. He neither remembered where he came from nor how he came to be. But what he did remember was being taken in by a kind woman and raised by  _ her _ people. The woman, Nuna, was like a mother and a mentor to him. She took care of him like her own son and taught him many things like fishing with his hands, recognizing an animal from their footprints on the soil, and reading the clouds when a storm was coming.

Often times, he would wander the forest and venture out to find something new. He had always been an adventurous and curious boy. That was how he discovered a village filled with people that didn't look like Nuna's people. Their skin was lighter and they wore strange clothing. Their hair and eye colors were also different. There were ones with brown hair like the earth and some with red as fire. Their eyes were as green as the forest or blue as the sea. Some of them even had corn colored hair and sky blue eyes…

Just like him…

He used to ask Nuna why he looked similar to those men and not like her and her people. She would then give him a sad smile and told him that it was because those men were  _ his _ people. When he heard that, he got upset. He didn't understand what she meant by that , and he would argue that he was Nuna's and he belonged with Nuna and her people. But no matter how many times he told her that, she gave him that sad look and hugged him tightly, whispering words of maternal love and affection.

At that time, he was too young to understand why she acted that way.

On some days, he would get very curious of these strange people and would sneak into their village to explore. Strangely, they treated him very well and were quite friendly to him. Although he didn't like being bathe, scrubbed, and forced into their clothes when they found him covered in dirt and twigs. They gave him food and treats to eat when he came by.

Unfortunately, when it came to Nuna's people, those strange people were wary and mean towards them. He didn't understand why they were so nice to him but mean to  _ her _ people. He decided that he didn't like those strangers and began to stay away from them. He would run or hide from them when those men came into the forest. .

There was a good number of times when a small group of young men with corn colored hair wandered into the forest. They seemed to be searching for something each time he saw them in the forest. He would usually hide under a bush or on top of a tree so they would not see him. Sometimes, if they got close enough, he could hear them talk. Not like he could understand what they were talking about. Like the rest of their people, they would speak in a foreign tongue he never heard of before. Sure, Nuna's people had many tongues they spoke depending on each tribe and he knew a few of them because Nuna taught him, but the language that these foreign strangers spoke was not one he knew or understood.

_ "They said they usually see him around here, wandering the forest on his own." _

_ "So do you t'ink he is one of us, Angleterre?" _

_ "Stop using that name, Frog!" _

_ "Ohonhonhon, no need to be so rude." _

_ "Well, what if the boy is human?" _

_ "Then we'll just have to find his parents or someone to take care of him. A young boy shouldn't wandering in this bloody forest alone in the first place." _

They talked among themselves and didn't notice his hiding spot. He waited for them to disappear before coming out of his hiding place. He didn't like them, because they were like those mean men.

Yet, something about them felt different.

After awhile, they stopped coming and he eventually forgot about them.

One day, Nuna came back from visiting tribes far up north and brought back a boy around his age. Not only did the boy look similar in age, but their appearances looked almost identical. The only difference was that the boy's hair was a little longer and slightly curly while his was short and had a cowlick. The boy's eyes were violet, unlike his blue eyes.

The boy himself seemed timid and quiet, but his eyes would stare at him with curiosity.

"This is your brother, little eagle," Nuna introduced him.

"My brother?" He looked at her, confused, and then to the boy, who was holding onto her leg for comfort.

"Yes, your brother," confirmed Nuna. "So take good care of each other well . "

Since then, he and his brother played together. Most of the time, he would drag his timid brother into the forest to explore and show him places he liked to hang out, teach him how to climb trees, and track down animals. Nuna would watch over them while also tending to her people.

They were a small happy family, but those days didn't last.

Those foreign people were slowly expanding into the forest and pushing them out. Nuna's people were forced to move to a new place, but Nuna told him and his brother to stay.

"But why, Nuna?! We want to go with you and everybody else!" He demanded, not understanding why she would leave them behind.

"Why can't we go with you?" His brother also asked with teary eyes.

Nuna stared at them with sadness and guilt that they couldn't comprehend. "I'm sorry, little ones, but you must be with your people. But always remember that no matter what happens to me, I'll always love you two."

They didn't understand what she meant, but they could sense that something was wrong. They begged and cried, but no matter what they say, Nuna never changed her decision. So both he and his brother were left behind by Nuna and her people.

And that was the last time they ever saw her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment please.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> I will have the first chapter up tomorrow


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first chapter. I will have the next chapter up next week
> 
> Enjoy!

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

_Smash!_

"Ugh...stupid alarm clock," a voice moaned in irritation from under the covers of the blanket. He shut off the alarm clock and tried to go back to sleep. Oh, how he wanted to go back to sleep and dream of the good old days...

_Knock! Knock!_

"Alfred?" A voice from the other side of the door of the room went, "Are you awake yet, eh? You're going to be late for work again."

"Hmm... go away… wanna sleep…" Alfred mumbled, trying to curl back in his comfy blanket.

"Hurry and get up. Breakfast will get cold," hastened the other person. There was a sound of the door knob being turned and a stream of light came washing into the small dark room. "Are you even awake yet, eh?"

"… I don't… wanna…zzz…" Alfred snored under the blankets on the queen size mattress that was lying on the floor. Half the bed was taken over by the bundle of blanket as if he had encased himself in a cocoon.

At the door, a young man with curly blond hair stood staring at the lump of blanket in irritation. His eyes were the rare color of violet and he wore thin-framed glasses. Wearing over his casual clothes was a white apron with a red maple leaf symbol on it. "Get up, Alfred, or you're going to be late!" He scolded, but it was hard to hear him because of how quiet he was.

Seeing that Alfred wasn't going to get up on his own, he stormed into the room and pulled the blanket off the sleeping young man. "Come on, you have to wake up."

"Nooooo, go away, Mattie," whined Alfred, trying to keep the blanket from being taken away.

Mattie, or Matthew, gave a deep breath in frustration before he used all his strength he had to pull the covers off forcefully. "Stop being such a kid and get ready for work already, eh!"

"You're so mean, Mattie…" cried Alfred, hugging himself for warmth now that his comfy and warm blanket had been ripped away from him.

"Your boss isn't going to be happy if you come in late again," warned Matthew.

"Alright, alright. I'm up so stop nagging," complained Alfred as he finally sat up and was shuffling at the side of the bed. He grabbed a pair of glasses and lazily put them on as he got up to head to the bathroom.

Seeing that the sleepy young man finally dragged himself out of bed, Matthew breathed out in relief and walked back to the kitchen to set up the table.

Alfred splashed his face with some cold water to help wake himself up. As he was brushing his teeth, he stared at the mirror in front of him. The face that stared back at him looked almost identical to Matthew's, but there were obvious differences. Unlike Matthew, Alfred had blue eyes and his hair was short with his front hair in a cowlick style. He was also better built than the other, who had a thinner body frame.

Although they didn't know who their parents were, they were brothers and could easily be passed off as twins. Hell! Neither of them could remember if they had parents to begin with. His earliest memories were only that of wandering the forest alone until he was found by a Native American called Nuna, who raised him like her own son. Then Mattie later came into the picture and they were told that they were brothers. Since they looked so alike, they both easily accepted it.

Of course, their appearances weren't the only thing that they shared in common…

Once Alfred changed his clothes, he walked into the kitchen and sat at the small table for two. A plate full of bacon and sunny side up eggs were placed in front of him along with a mug of hot coffee. The sizzling heat was still hovering in the air and Alfred's mouth watered at the delicious freshly cooked food. In the center of the table was another plate with pancakes and a family-sized bottle of high quality maple syrup right next to it. He liked his pancakes with syrup, but Matthew _loved_ it. Also, it had to be the good kind or his brother would throw a fit.

When it came to who was older, they never really found out for sure, so they decided by strength. The older one should be strong and protect the younger sibling after all! No doubt that Alfred won that position through a friendly wrestling with Nuna watching them in amusement.

"When you finish, wash the plates, eh? I need to go to work now," Matthew said, as he took off his apron and hung it on the wall.

"What about you, dude? You ate yet?" Alfred asked through a mouthful of eggs.

"I already ate when you were in the washroom," explained his brother.

"Alrighty. So what's for dinner then?"

"I was thinking of making some pasta tonight, so I'll need to pick up some grocery on the way home."

"Aw! But I was thinking of ordering pizza!" Alfred whined, spitting pieces of bacon onto the table without noticing.

"We already had that two nights ago and the night before that! It's better to eat some home cooked meals," reasoned Matthew.

"There's nothing better than pizza... Okay, maybe burgers...actually, they can be on par with each other… but maybe…"

Matthew sighed in exhaustion as Alfred started to ramble to himself whether pizza or burgers were better than the other. He decided to leave for his work at a nearby cafe while his older brother was left to finish his food while still going on a one-sided debate.

By the time Alfred was done, he looked at his watch to find that he was going to be late for work… again. Shit! His boss was going to be pissed.

He ran out of the small apartment and into his van in the parking lot.

* * *

Unlike his brother, Matthew walked to his workplace because it wasn't far from the apartment. It was about a twenty minute walk to get there. He liked strolling down the streets of the city because it was nice and busy when he walked. People walked down the sidewalks, cars drove down the roads, cart sellers advertised their products, and music played loudly from the stores. It was a good time to hide and not get noticed. Well, not like he ever got noticed anyway, but better safe than not.

Matthew was taking the same route to work as usual. Down the streets full of stores and across a few traffic lights was a big building with tall fences. Every day to work, he would pass this large fancy building. He assumed that it was some office building or maybe the government's since it looked pretty important. There was a wide, well-kept grassy yard from the gate leading to the building, but he never saw anyone enter or leave the place.

According to the locals, the building was used as a meeting place, so there were sometimes people coming and going from the building. Nobody really knew who they were or what they did, so they were a mysterious bunch. Security was tight as well when those people came. Apparently, some curious teenagers once tried to get in, but only to be kicked out less than a minute later.

Since moving to this city a few months ago with his brother, Matthew hadn't seen these people yet, but it wasn't like he cared. It wasn't his business and he'd rather avoid people's attention anyways. It would be bad if the government discovered them and who knew what they would do to them.

After all, they were not … _human_.

They didn't know what they were themselves, but they knew they were different. No human could live as long as they had or heal from a fatal injury as quickly as they did. They could be immortals for all they knew.

Whatever they were, it was better to keep themselves hidden and never stay in one place for too long. Stay for a couple of years and then move on. People would get suspicious if they realized that they couldn't age .

They tried not to get attached to anyone. It was emotionally and mentally exhausting to say good bye over and over again, coming up with excuses of why they have to leave, and having no way of contacting them again. He didn't like leaving people he cared about, but it was for the best. They didn't want to go through another funeral. This would have affected Alfred the most since he was social and couldn't help but be attached to them. So they decided that they should never grow attach to anybody again.

They already had each other, so it was enough.

* * *

It took Alfred forty minutes to get to his workplace, the American History museum, which he blamed the traffic for his lateness. He always seemed to be attracted to those kind of jobs. He felt nostalgic when he wandered the halls of recorded history of his country. He did lived through all this after all.

He was careful to stay quiet when he tried to get to the employee's locker room and not get caught being late again. Being invisible was not his area of expertise. That was Mattie's because he could go anywhere unnoticed and one could only see him when he spoke to you. He was almost like a ghost!

Making sure his boss wasn't around, he jumped out of a corner and dashed down the halls until he made it to the locker room for the guys.

"Safe!" he cheered once he was behind the door. "Now time to change into my super suit!" Also known as, his employee uniform. Alfred was quick to run to his locker and changed as flashy as possible while humming one of his favorite hero theme songs. Once he was all dressed in his museum uniform, he walked to the door triumphantly.

He hadn't bump into his boss yet, so there was no way he would be caught late again. He guessed he was going to get away with it this time.

Then he opened the door and… there was his boss, standing with his arms crossed and looking at him in disapproval.

"Mr. Jones... You're late."

Uh oh…

* * *

Twenty minutes later…

"He chewed you out pretty good, didn't he?" A fellow museum worker teased him later that day. She was a young woman in her early thirties with long curly brown hair with a small name tag pinned to her chest that read 'Danna.'

"Yeah… at least he didn't fire me," Alfred said optimistically.

"Must be that natural charm of yours," Danna joked.

The two of them were currently at the Guest Service table, chatting with each other when no one came to the front desk.

"Well yeah! I am one hell of a good looking guy. I'm practically irresistible!" He puffed his chest up with a playful look.

Dnana gave the young man a weird look before barking out a loud laughter. "Hahahahaha! That's not what I meant, you arrogant little brat!" She laughed while slapping him on the back of the shoulders several times. "I meant that you have this thing about you that makes people feel comfortable and like you really easily."

"I guess I'm just a people person," shrugged Alfred.

Before Danna could retort back, there was a static sound.

_Pzzt!_

[Hey, Alfred! You there? Over.]

Both Danna and Alfred turned to the table and stared at a black walkie talkie. Alfred picked up the device and replied back, "Yeah, I'm here. What's up, Fred? Over."

_Pzzt!_

[We need some muscle back here. The boss wants us to reorganize the storage room and some of the crap back here is heavy as fuck! Over.]

"Alrighty! I'll be there in a flash. Over," agreed Alfred as he got up. Then he turned to Danna and apologized, "Sorry, Danna. Gotta help with the guys in the back again. They're in need of my super awesome strength!"

"Got it, super boy. Go help those hopeless idiots while I defend the front lines called the Guest Service," she waved him away with a grin.

"Yes, ma'am!" He saluted at her with a playful grin before running off to assist the poor weak citizens of the storage room.

Once he arrived at the storage room at the back of the museum, he was greeted by two other workers, who were examining the boxes and crates.

"Hey, dudes!" Alfred greeted them cheerfully. "Did someone call for an assistance?"

"Finally got your ass here. We have loads to do, so let's get to work," said one of the men. The man had a light brown messy hair and mean looking brown eyes. Despite the intimidating eyes, he was actually pretty chill. He wasn't very strict with rules and usually let things slide as long as work was done. He also liked a good joke, but not the crude kind. His physical body was also nothing to laugh at. The man had some muscles that might be on par with him, but Alfred was confident enough that no one can ever match him in strength.

Alfred once carried a whole pine tree back home as firewood and wrestled a bear with his bare hands. He lived in the wild and fended for himself, but the more he challenged himself, the more he realized that his strength was far from normal. No normal human could carry the weight that he could at his max. He might as well be Superman, but without the powers to fly or those cool laser eyes and X-ray vision.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it, Fred," replied Alfred. Then he turned to the other man and greeted him, "Hola, Paul."

" _Hola_ , Al," the other man smiled and nodded at him in greeting. Paul was a chubby Mexican American with a bright and friendly smile to match with his friendly personality.

The storage room at the back of the museum was big and was filled with boxes, crates, and antiques stacked beside the wall and piled on the floor. There were a few statues and mannequins standing at the corners with a row of pottery, possibly from China or some other Asian country lined up and gathering dust on the shelves. Alfred also spotted a bubble wrapped dragon statue hidden behind two wooden crates with "Caution" printed in bold red.

"So what do we have in these boxes?" Alfred asked while opening the lid of the closest crate to him. "Woah! Are these muskets?!"

"Yeah, but no ammo in them so don't worry about them going off," assured Fred. "Do you know which time period of the American history they..."

_How are you here? Why...? Why do you have to fight me?!_

Suddenly, a voice echoed in his head when he realized what kind of rifle this was.

"American Revolution," Alfred answered before Fred could finish his question. He picked up the old rifle to stroke it. "It's a Brown Bess musket, but it's real name is the British Short Land Pattern musket. The colonies originally got it from the British and used it during the Revolutionary War. They're kind of slow to load and not accurate when fired. Used round lead balls the size of quarters as ammo. The spear blade that is usually attached on the tip is called a bayonet. Ironically, the blade did more damage than the bullet wounds themselves."

"Damn, kid! You sure know your history," Fred stared at the young man, impressed.

"Y-yeah… I just read up on American history a lot," Alfred gave a nervous laugh before putting the old firearm back down into the crate. He felt a little guilty lying to them, but it wasn't like he could tell them the truth either. How was he supposed to tell them that he actually went through the American Revolution first hand without sounding crazy? They'd probably think he's pulling their legs as a joke as always.

So for the next hour or two, Fred had Alfred and Paul move and stack the boxes and crates in another corner of the room. The lighter ones were pretty easy to move around and Alfred could carry a few of them at a time, but the heavier ones usually required two or three of them to move them. Alfred could easily handle them with one hand, but he paired with either Paul or Fred to avoid suspicion.

There were a lot of interesting things Alfred found while moving the boxes around. There were some old clothes from the mid 1800s and a vintage radio from the early 1900s. There was even a whole box of cowboy hats and boots from the good ol' Wild West. He was careful when he discovered a suitcase that had a set of four champagne glasses and an empty wine bottle. To normal people, these would look like any old junk or antique. But for Alfred, it gave him a sense of nostalgia.

By the time they were done with half the room, it was already lunch time.

"Alright, you two. That'll be it for now," told Fred. "It's lunch time and I'm starving!"

"Yes! Food!" cheered Alfred.

"Are you going to get something from the museum cafe?" asked Paul.

"Burgers, of course!" Alfred answered confidently.

"Again, _amigo?_ " Paul stared at him. "Didn't you just have that yesterday? And the day before that? You keep eating like that and you're gonna get the belly, my friend." He smacked his own large stomach to emphasize his point.

"No need to worry, Paul my dear friend," assured the blond. "I work out a lot so I don't have to worry about getting fat. Besides, my brother cooks so he makes sure to have a balance diet from time to time to keep me in shape."

"Whatever you say, _amigo_ ," shrugged Paul.

* * *

At the museum cafe, all three men sat at one table to have their lunch. Paul brought his homemade food while Fred and Alfred went to buy from the cafe. Of course, Alfred got a burger set with fries and a large size soda. Danna joined the table a few minutes later when she switched shifts with another employee.

"So how far are you boys with the storage?" asked Danna, curiously.

"I'd say about another day or two would do it," estimated Fred.

"Really? You boys work fast," Danna looked amazed. "By the way, why does the boss want to reorganize the room anyways?"

Now that Danna mentioned it, why did their boss want them to move the stuff in the storage room in the first place? Alfred turned to Fred for answers while taking a huge bite from his burger.

"He just said that some British guy was going to donate some antiques to the museum, so he wanted some place in the back to store them until they can put it up front for the public," explained Fred.

"A British guy donating to an American museum?" Alfred stared with a raised brow.

"The American Revolution had more than just the colonies fighting the war, you know," glared Danna. "Obviously, there's Great Britain. Then there're France, Spain, and the Dutch."

"Yeah, yeah, but why does the guy want to donate anything to a country that fought a bloody war against his own?" Alfred kept asking.

The whole table went silent and they all stared at him incredibly.

"Whaaaaaat?" Alfred looked at them in confusion.

"Dear lord... I know you're childish at times, but honestly..." groaned Danna with a facepalmed.

"Better not say that in front of the boss or the donor when he arrives," advised Fred, not as bothered with the young man's question. He was already used to Alfred's immature personality.

"Gotcha!… Wait, the guy's coming himself? When?" Alfred asked with curiosity.

"In a few days, I think," Fred replied. "I think the guy said he had a meeting here in the city, so he'll probably bring the stuff himself when he's in town."

"I see," Alfred nodded in understanding. It made sense if the guy already had business here, so he might as well drop the stuff off. It was more convenient and he wouldn't have to worry about relying on someone else to ship them here and risk damage during the trip.

He did wonder what kind of stuff was the donator going to give to this museum. Maybe something from the 1900s or even older. Danna told him before that someone donated a vintage film camera with several film rolls. It was kept in such a good condition that they could show the films to the public.

Well, whatever it was, he'd get to see it soon anyways.

* * *

The small, cozy cafe Matthew worked at was called _The Little Garden_. It gave off a warm and hospitable vibe. Not only that, the cafe also sold flowers and houseplants, so it was like a flower shop and cafe in one. They served light stuff like sandwiches, soup, salad, and pastries. For drinks, it was mostly coffee, tea, ice tea, and fruit drinks. Not really a place to come to for a big meal, but more for relaxing and hanging out. This place was especially popular with college students and writers that just needed a place to work while having something to snack on.

It was around late afternoon, so the place wasn't too packed with customers. There were soft chatters around the dining area and modern music from a popular radio station being played from the cafe's speaker.

All in all, the day started very nicely for Matthew. He was currently working at the cafe as one of the waiters and at the cashier register. It was a small place and they didn't normally get a crazy amount of customers, so they were short on workers . Currently, there were only Matthew and a college girl on shift right now.

"Hey, Matthew, you doing anything tomorrow?" asked his female co worker, a girl with long black hair tied in a ponytail, from behind the counter where the cashier was.

"I have to work tomorrow," Matthew answered after serving a table. "Why?"

"Then what day do you not work?" The girl asked again.

"Um, Kristy, you didn't answer my question," he reminded her. "Why do you want to know my schedule, eh?"

"Ugh! Can't you tell when someone is trying to ask you out on a date?" Kristy exclaimed in frustration. "You _are_ single, right?"

"Uh… Yes, I am single, but aren't _you_ already dating someone, eh?" Matthew stared at her suspiciously. He remembered her talking about her boyfriend a few times and if he recalled correctly, they had been dating for a few weeks now.

"Already broke up. The guy was getting clingy and obsessed with making sure I reply to all his texts on time, so had to call it off before things get really creepy," she explained with an annoyed tone. "So now I'm free and looking for someone new. You're nice and very polite. Hardworking as well. Your Canadian accent is adorable. Not to mention, you're cute. So interested?" She batted her eyes at him, seductively.

Matthew blushed a little at her bold behavior, but then he gave her an apologetic smile and replied, "I'm sorry, Kristy, but I must turn down your… offer. I don't see you more than a co worker and a friend. Besides, shouldn't you be more concerned about your exams? From what I heard from the other college students, it should be midterm season."

Unlike Matthew, who was a full time worker, Kristy happened to be a college student and was working part time to pay her bills, tuition, and school supplies. Sure Kristy was a pretty girl, but he just wasn't interested in her like that. Not only were their ages extremely far apart when considered how long he had lived, but he didn't want to be too close to anybody. It was already planned by he and his brother that they would move again in a couple of years, if not sooner.

"Ugh! Don't remind me of midterms," she groaned in exasperation, faceplanting onto the counter.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be thinking about dating for awhile and take care of your midterms first, eh?" suggested Matthew. He couldn't help but smile in slight amusement and envy. It must be nice to be normal and worry about classes and dates. Often times, Matthew would wonder what it would be like to be just a normal human. To live normally with a stable job and a family. Befriend people without having to worry about outliving them every time and moving around every few years.

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

Suddenly, there was a sound of vibration and Kristy pulled out her phone to check the screen. An annoyed look crossed her face and she turned off the device before putting it away in her pocket.

"Was that important?" Matthew asked curiously.

"Nope!" She answered, still looking irritated. "Just my _ex_ -boyfriend still trying to get back together with me. I already told him 'no' but he just doesn't seem to get the message."

So her ex-boyfriend wasn't over her yet and from what she told him about the guy, he might continue to persist. He heard of cases where the ex did something drastic and extreme to get their partner back, but he could be overthinking it.

"Kristy, try to be careful, eh," advised Matthew. "He might not give up for awhile."

"I know," huffed the girl. "Just my luck! I just had to get a clingy and persistent type. Ugh!"

Before he could say anymore, a group of teens walked into the cafe. Looked like work was calling again, so they had no choice but to drop their conversation and get back to work.

Matthew was still worried, but what else could he do? He might be overdramatizing the situation and her ex-boyfriend might eventually move on to find someone else to cling to. He probably watched too many crime shows and felt paranoid for no reason. He blamed Alfred for making him watch those cop shows with him.

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

"God damn… Wait, it's not mine," stated Kristy, remembering that she already turned off her phone.

"Oh, I think it's mine," realized Matthew. He took out his phone and checked the screen to see who it was. "It's Alfred."

"Oh! Your brother? A call?" wondered Kristy. "That reminds me! Is he single?"

"Kristy, please," Matthew begged. First, him. Now, his brother? He went back to his phone again. It wasn't a call, but a text with a picture added to it. "He sent me a photo."

Checking the text, it said, :[Hey Mattie! Check this out, dude!]: right above the photo.

Curious, he scrolled down to what his brother sent him and froze when he saw it. Wondering what led to Matthew making such a weird face, Kristy leaned over to take a peek on his screen and her eyes grew wide in disbelief before she started laughing so hard she clutched her stomach in pain while Matthew covered his red face in embarrassment.

On the screen of Matthew's phone was a picture of Alfred half naked with a Native Hawaiian grass skirt around his waist and a cowboy hat on his head. He was making a pose that looked like he was looking into the distance with his right hand shading his eyes and his left on his hip. In the background, there was a giant oil painting of a tropical island. Behind the blond was a very angry looking Fred with his hands outstretched to grab the young man.

At the bottom of the picture, there was another text.

:[I call this the Amazing Adventures of a Cowboy Stranded on an Island! :D]:

"Good lord, Alfred…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment please.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Notes:
> 
> :[...]: = Text messages
> 
> [...] = Dialogues from over the phone


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story for this chapter got too long and I had to split it to two chapters instead. Just wanted to show a little more of our favorite North American brothers before I get into the main plot. I called this semi-side-but-still-part-of story "Brother Bonding" arc on my notes.

_In front of an old Catholic church, a young blond boy kicked and struggled, trying to free himself from the nun's tight hold, who was trying to keep him back._

_"NO! THEY CAN'T TAKE HIM!" The boy screamed through his teary blue eyes. "YOU CAN'T SEPARATE US! IT'S NOT FAIR!"_

_"Alfred! Please!" The nun begged, barely holding onto him. The boy was strong. Very strong for a boy his age. It was taking all she could muster to keep him from going after the other boy, who was about to leave with a nice couple at the front gate. "It is best for him. Just be a good brother and let him go so he can be happy."_

_"NO! I WON'T! HE'S ALL THE FAMILY I HAVE LEFT! YOU CAN'T TEAR US APART! MATTIE! MATTIE!" The boy yelled loudly towards the gate._

_At the front of the gate, there was a carriage pulled by two horses stationed, ready to leave at any moment. The coachman and a man in his mid twenties were trying to load a trunk onto the carriage while a young woman was leading a blond boy with violet eyes onto the vehicle._

_He looked nervous and scared at the realization that he was going to be separated from his brother. He looked back at the boy, who was still struggling to free himself from the nun. "Alfred!" He called to his brother with fear in his voice as he was pulled into the carriage._

_"Come on, child," hurried the young woman. "We can't take your brother with us, but everything will be alright. He'll eventually get adopted by a nice couple like you."_

_"B-but... Will I ever see him again?" The violet eyed boy asked, worriedly._

_"MATTIE!" Finally, with one last push, he freed himself from the nun's grasp and ran towards the carriage._

_But by then, the two men had already finished loading and was ready to leave. The coachman whipped at his horses and the carriage began to pull away._

_"MATTIE!" The blue eyed boy ran onto the earthy road after the carriage, but the vehicle was already gaining speed and the child could only run so fast with his small legs._

_The other boy poked his head out of the window and called to his brother. "Alfred!"_

_"MATTIE! I PROMISE I'LL COME AND FIND YOU!_ I PROMISE! _"_

_"ALFRED!"_

_"I WON'T STOP UNTIL WE'RE BACK TOGETHER SO DON'T YOU DARE FORGET!"_

_"I WON'T! I PROMISE!"_

_Finally reaching his limit, the blue eyed boy started to slow down and bend over, coughing and panting hard. When he looked up, the carriage that took his brother was already far off into the distance._

_Stream of tears ran down his face when he caught his breath and he wailed loudly as his heart was plunged in the dark depths of devastation._

* * *

Jolting right out of his dream, Alfred woke up with his heart aching as if it was being squeezed and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He was panting hard and hiccuped a few times as he tried to calm himself down to get his breathing back to normal again.

The room was still dark with soft glow of light coming through the blinds of the window. The clock beside the bed told him it was still in the middle of the night. He woke up about four hours before his time to wake up for work.

"Al...fred?" A sleepy voice called out from beside him.

Sleeping in the same bed right next to him was Matthew, who was holding onto an old worn out teddy bear. It used to be pure white, but several decades passed and its color slowly changed to a light brownish color.

It seemed that Matthew sensed his older brother's distress and woke up from his own slumber.

Matthew got worried when Alfred didn't answer him right away. "Alfred, are you alright? Did you have a nightmare, eh?" he asked as he tried to adjust his eyes to see his brother through the darkness.

Suddenly, Alfred wrapped his arms around Matthew's waist and pressed his face into his chest. Matthew froze at his brother's sudden embrace. Then there were sounds of sobbing and Alfred's shoulders began to tremble.

"I-I promise... I w-won't let a-anyone... t-tear us apart again…" Alfred choked, trying to hide his teary face from his younger brother.

Now understanding what had happened, Matthew patted his brother's head gently, trying to calm him down. "I know, so you don't have to cry, eh. No one will separate us."

Alfred continued to sob while Matthew patted his head in assurance. After about five minutes, there were sounds of snoring from the older blond. It seemed that Alfred finally fell back to sleep, so Matthew gently lift his brother's head up from his chest to wipe away his tears.

He guessed that his older brother was still traumatized from that time when they got separated. When they were still 'kids', they were wandering on their own after Nuna left them behind. A nice old couple, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, found them and took them in. They even gave them their names, Alfred and Matthew, and treated them like their own. They lived with them for a couple of years until they passed away of old age. It was first Mr. Jones, who got a heart attack while working in the cornfield. Half a year later, his wife followed suit. She was bedridden for about two months until one day, she passed away in her sleep.

With no other family members to take them in, they were put into an orphanage. They lived there for awhile until Matthew got adopted by another couple, the Williams, and Alfred got left behind. The day they were torn apart was probably one of their worst days of their lives. Even after they found each other years later, Alfred was still traumatized and paranoid that Matthew would suddenly disappear one day. So he grew to become afraid of being separated from him from then on. Though, over the years, his brother did get better, but occasionally, something like this would happen. He would recall those days in his dreams and he would wake up, heart struck and crying. Matthew had to try to calm him down every time.

It wasn't just his brother that suffered from that incident. The first few months when he was living with the Williams, he had depression and was crying every night for his brother. But eventually, he stopped crying and got used to his new life. It helped when he was studying to keep his mind off of his sadness, but then he ended up not socializing. He couldn't make friends, because of his quiet and shy personality so he ended up being alone. But maybe it was a good thing he didn't have friends or it would've been harder on him when he realized that he would outlive every one of them. One of Mr. Williams friends, a Frenchman who occasionally visited, gifted him a white stuffed bear. He can no longer recall his name, but Matthew remembered him as a nice man. When Matthew was still grieving over his brother, the man gave him the stuffed bear to comfort him at night. Even to this day, he still has that bear with him, because he can no longer sleep well without it.

Matthew watched over his older brother as he slept. That's good. It looked like Alfred wasn't having another nightmare at least. His eyes were still wet and swollen a little, but he seemed to be sleeping peacefully now.

Seeing that his brother was fine, Matthew decided to close his eyes and wait for his slumber to overtake him.

* * *

"Alfred"

"…"

"Yo, earth to Alfred!"

"…"

"Screw it! ALFRED!"

"Wha…!?" Alfred jolted in surprise and nearly dropped the box he was carrying.

"Hey! Don't drop that! There're antique plates in there!" yelled Fred.

"Maybe you shouldn't have scared him like that," argued Paul, while stacking some small boxes onto each other. "Anyone could tell he wasn't all there."

It was the second day they were reorganizing the storage room and they were about half way done from yesterday. They were expected to finish either today or early tomorrow, but it seemed that Alfred has been acting strange since this morning and had slowed down their pace immensely. The usually enthusiastic young man seemed less energetic and cocky like he normally was. His mind also seemed to frequently zone out as well. Dana tried to greet him this morning, but it took her the fifth time with a slap to his shoulder to get him to notice her.

"Uh sorry, guys," Alfred apologized, quickly putting down the box to not risk any more accidents. "It was nothing. I was just… thinking, that's all."

"Thinking of what?" Fred asked with a slight irritated tone. It seemed he was still annoyed that the young blond almost broke some valuable items. "It better not be burgers or pizzas again."

"No, it wasn't about burgers or pizzas," denied Alfred. Though it would be nice if that was the case, "It's more… personal. I would appreciate it if you guys don't nose too much into it."

He really didn't want to tell them that he was thinking about what happened about two centuries ago when he got separated from his brother. It wasn't something he liked to talk about, but it wasn't something he can easily forget. The feeling of being alone, the feeling of discovering that he wasn't aging like normal people, and the feeling he'll never see his brother again were painful to recall for him. The day he realized that he wasn't normal made him question his very existence. Who was he… _What_ was he…

With every year that passed during their separation, he would also wonder if his brother was aging like a normal person or not. His anxiety and fear would grow with every decade.

What if his brother was now an old man, would he recognize him? What if he already passed away and he didn't even know it? What if it was too late? What if he had to roam this world all alone and forever like an immortal from legends and myth? Those thoughts swam in his mind for a very long time.

He didn't want to go through that again…

"Whatever this personal thought you are having, try not make it effect your work. We have a deadline," reminded Fred.

"Alright alright, I'll try," Alfred grabbed a cloth that was bundled on top of a large pile of crates and pulled it down.

That was when Paul called in panic, "Alfred! Look out!"

Before the blond registered why Paul yelled at him, he looked up on instinct and the last thing he remembered was getting hit with something hard and heavy on his head before everything went blank.

* * *

It was still late morning, another easy day at _The Little Garden_ cafe with few customers because it wasn't a busy time. The customers were either working or studying, so Matthew and Kristy used their time preparing some flowers. Matthew was trimming the stems of some lilies at the counter while Kristy was bringing in a bucket of carnations.

"Done with those lilies yet?" asked Kristy as she put the bucket down. "Got these pretties next."

"Almost, eh," Matthew answered, cutting off another stem with a quick snap.

"Let me help out so we can get this done faster," she said as she picked up a pair of scissors and took a lily.

"Thanks, eh." he smiled at her thankfully.

"I've been wondering about something. Even though you and your brother are twins, why are you Canadian and your brother's not?" wondered Kristy, as she was cutting the stems of the flowers. "Not to mention, you're last name don't match up."

Here we go again. This wasn't the first time someone asked this.

"I did tell you before that we don't have parents, eh?"

Kristy nodded, remembering him mentioning it.

"We were first adopted by an old couple, Mr. And Mrs. Jones, and lived with them for a few years, eh. Then one day, they passed away, so we were put in an orphanage and I got adopted by a new couple, Mr. And Mrs. Williams. So my surname changed from Matthew Jones to Matthew Williams, eh," he explained. "Even after we reunited, I didn't want to change my surname because it felt like I would be disrespecting and being ungrateful to the couple that raised me like their own. Alfred didn't like it at first, but eventually accepted my decision, eh."

"What about your accent?" she asked.

"I adopted my accent from the Williams since they were... Canadian and we lived in Canada." Well, back then, it wasn't called Canada yet and it was still under French rule.

"So you got your Canadian citizenship from them?"

"That's right, eh."

"And your brother...?"

"He's... just American," he answered plainly.

Unfortunately, Alfred was never adopted, because he ran away from the orphanage before any family could take him in. He considered himself American because he always felt more like an American or a 'colonist' during that time period. Matthew felt more Canadian than American himself. Maybe it was because he was adopted by a Canadian couple or because he lived in Canada for most of his childhood that he felt more attached to that nation.

"So that's why. Gotcha. Your life sounds pretty complicated."

"Yeah…" Matthew muttered nervously. _You have no idea._

"I see," Kristy nodded in understanding. "So... have you ever dated anyone?" She suddenly changed the topic out of nowhere.

"Are you still at it?" Matthew squeaked, giving her a look. "I already gave you my reply, eh."

"No no no no no. I'm not trying to ask you out again. Just curious," she explained.

"Well then, no…" answered Matthew, softly.

"Really? I thought you would've at least dated once," Kristy stared at the blond, clearly surprised.

"Uh… well, my life has been nothing _but_ complicated, eh," Matthew tried to think of a way to explain this without giving out the sensitive stuff. "Me and my brother move around a lot so we never had time to really think about that kind of stuff."

"But don't you feel— I don't know… lonely? Like ever thought of wanting romance or love?" questioned Kristy, clearly still in disbelief that such a good looking and polite guy has been single all this time.

"Not really, eh," replied Matthew, softly. "It has always been fine with just me and my brother, so it was never lonely. Just as long as we're together, it's enough for me."

"Ooooo! Do I detect a bromance here?!" exclaimed Kristy. Her eyes suddenly started to sparkle for some reason.

"Um… W-what?!" Matthew spluttered in shock at her words. "Broma—why are you looking at me like _that?!"_

"Hohohohoho! So that is why you've been single all this time." A devious cat like grin formed on her face while her eyes shines with mischief. Then she started to poke his cheek teasingly. "You should've told me you had such a strong relationship with your brother or I wouldn't have tried to come between you two."

Matthew started to feel uncomfortable and wanted to change the subject. He swore he saw cat ears popping out of her head and a tail whipping side to side behind her like a cat that discovered a new toy.

"K-Kristy…" Matthew whined, wanting to cry. This girl was scaring him.

In that moment when he grabbed her hand to make her stop poking him, the door of the cafe opened and there was a chime of a bell.

_Ding!_

Both their heads turned to the door out of instinct to see who their customer was. It was a man with tan skin and short dark brown hair. At first, Matthew didn't give much attention to the customer, but he noticed that the man's brown eyes were glaring at him. The shy blond didn't know why the man would look at him like that. He was sure that he had never met this guy nor did he remember ever pissing anyone off before, so why was he glaring at him like he wanted to punch him?

"Juan?" Kristy suddenly spoke out in surprise and annoyance. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, clearly not happy to see him by the sound of her tone.

Matthew turned to Kristy, hoping she would enlighten him on who this person was to her.

"Is this guy your new boyfriend?" The man named Juan demanded, glaring daggers at Matthew.

"W-what?" Completely taken aback by that misunderstanding, Matthew stared at him with confused eyes. Then he realized something and turned to look at his hand. He was still holding onto Kristy's wrist when she was poking him. Like an electricity zapping through his arm, he quickly let go of her. "No no! This is a misunderstanding, eh! We're just co workers!" He tried to explain to the man.

"Matthew, can you cover for me while I have a talk with my _ex_ -boyfriend for a few minutes?" asked Kristy, who was still giving the man a cold look.

"Oh! Uh… sure," he agreed, looking at her and the man with concern.

The girl stomped up to the man with anger and muttered, "Talk. Outside," she pointed to the door. The man followed the girl out the door, but he made sure to turn to look back at Matthew and gave him one last hateful glare before he exited.

Matthew realized that he forgot to breath when he breathed out a sigh of relief. Even with the man gone, he couldn't relax.

So _that_ was Kristy's ex-boyfriend. He never saw the guy before since he never came by the cafe and the girl never showed any photos of him. He hoped Kristy was alright. The look on that man's face and the vibe he was giving off made Matthew anxious.

Kristy came back ten minutes later with a tired and irritated look on her face.

"So how did it go with your ex, eh?" Matthew asked out of worry.

"Not sure if I was able to hammer it into his head that we're completely through or not, but I told him that if he keeps bothering me, I'm going to call the police and charge him for stalking me," told Kristy. "I swear! What was I thinking when I thought of dating the guy?"

"Has he been giving you a lot of trouble?"

"Been texting and calling me non stop that I had to block him. Then he used his friends' numbers to contact me. Had to block those too. Now, as you just saw, he just waltz into my workplace and expects to get back together with me! Like _seriously?!_ The hell is _wrong_ with _him?!_ " Kristy cried out in frustration.

"I think you should report this to the police, eh, Kristy," advised Matthew, feeling more nervous about her situation. "It might get worse."

"No, I can deal with this. I don't need no police to make things worse," she refused. "Besides, it might not get as bad as you think, Matthew. You worry too easily."

"I really think you should consider…" Before Matthew could finish what he wanted to say, his phone began to vibrate.

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

"Um… uh… sorry. Hold on a minute, Kristy," he apologized before picking up his phone. The screen showed that it was Alfred's number, but why was he calling him? "Hello?"

[Is this Matthew? Alfred's brother?] said a voice that wasn't Alfred's.

"Yes, who is this?"

[This is Paul, Alfred's colleague,] the caller answered.

"Oh! Paul. Yes, I remember," recalled Matthew. He remembered the Latino man from the museum that Alfred worked at. He visited the place sometimes and Alfred had introduced him to his fellow colleagues before.

[I called because of your brother.]

"Alfred? What happened?" Matthew started to worry.

[Well, we were reorganizing the storage room when a jug… fell on his head.]

"WhaaaAAATTT!?" Matthew cried out loudly, which was unusual for the quiet blond.

His outcry caused the customers to turn and stare with confused and curious looks. Even Kristy, who was standing beside him, heard some of the conversation and would look at him with worry.

[Calm down, _amigo_. He just blacked out for a short while and just woke up a few minutes ago…]

Suddenly, he heard two other voices in the background.

[I SAID I'M FINE!]

[STOP BEING A BABY AND LET ME CHECK YOUR HEAD! THAT JUG WAS MARBLE! _MARBLE!_ WHAT IF YOU CRACKED YOUR SKULL?!]

[Uh… Yeah… He seems okay and very rowdy right now, but we told him to go to the hospital to get checked just in case. He kept saying he was okay and didn't need the hospital, so we thought that maybe since you're his _hermano_ , he would listen to you.]

"Oh okay. I can go pick him up right now. I'll be there as soon as possible."

With that, he hung up his phone and started to untie his apron. "Kristy…"

"No problem! You got my back, I got yours," the girl gave him a thumbs up.

"Thanks Kristy," he smiled at her in gratitude, before running out the door.

* * *

It took about thirty minutes for Matthew to get to the museum from his workplace by foot. He ran most of the way, so he was panting like crazy by the time he arrived in the museum lobby. Dana was there to lead him to his brother, who was sitting in the male employee's locker room with Fred and Paul trying to give him first aid.

His brother had a stream of dried blood above his left eye. No doubt from where the jug hit him. Of course, Alfred wouldn't let any of his colleagues near his head. He even tried to cover it with his hand while insisting that he could take care of it himself. To normal people, it looked like Alfred was being stubborn and unreasonable. But for Matthew, he knew why.

He was most likely not injured anymore.

That was the reason why Matthew tried to get here as soon as possible to get Alfred out of here before the others noticed anything strange. Any normal human would have gotten a scar from the amount of blood that spilled and probably a nasty head bump. But for them, they healed very fast. A cut like that would vanish in a couple of minutes, leaving no trace of a scar behind.

Matthew was able to drag Alfred out of the museum while lying to his brother's coworkers that he would go to the hospital to get his brother's head checked. He didn't like to lie, but this was for their sake. He'll just drive home in their van and make sure that Alfred wore bandages around his head for awhile. This was to cover up their fast healing abilities and pretend that he had a scar that would take a week or two to heal. Might even add that he got stitches to make it sound more realistic.

"Alfred, what happened today, eh?" Matthew asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I was just zoning a little and I got myself knocked out, okay? It wasn't anything big," told Alfred, his eyes staring at the passing scenery outside. The sound of his tone didn't have the lighthearted or optimistic feel that it normally did, so something was definitely wrong.

"It was because of the dream last night, eh?"

"…"

"Alfred…"

"… You know me too well, Mattie," replied Alfred, still staring out the side window. Though his position hasn't changed, a small sad smile seemed to form on his face.

"Of course. I'm your brother after all. How long do you think I've been with you, eh?" Matthew said with slight playfulness. When he finally hit a red light, he turned to his brother and asked softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

There was a long pause of silence between the two brothers as Matthew waited for an answer from Alfred. Finally, the older one broke the silence.

"What good would talking do, Mattie? You know that these kind of things happen from time to time. I'll get over it," told Alfred.

"I know... but talking about it would help, eh," thought Matthew. "I don't like seeing you in this condition. I like it better when you're smiling, laughing, and making a fool of yourself, eh."

Alfred couldn't help but smile at this. Hearing from his brother how much he cared about him made his mood a little better.

Then the traffic light turned green and they were off once again.

"Alfred, you're not alone in this, eh. You're never alone. You have me to talk to so... please... talk to me, eh," pleaded Matthew, as he drove down the small street.

Once again, there was an awkward silence when nobody said anything. Matthew waited for his brother to speak up, but seconds ticked by and there was nothing. Finally, just when Matthew was about to give up, the older blond spoke.

"What would've happened if... we never found... each other?" he mumbled.

"Huh? Where did that ca... Oh, I see, eh." He now understood why his brother was in a strange mood. "I... don't know... Maybe we would've wandered the world for centuries on our own, eh?"

"That's what I have been afraid of... being alone... for hundreds of years," Alfred mumbled again. "We've lived for so long and we don't even know why. Just imagining if we didn't have each other to lean on sounds so... "

"Lonely?" Matthew guessed.

"... Yeah, really lonely... and scary... "

So his brother has been thinking about this what-if situation. He can't really blame him. Even Matthew had thought about it sometimes, but he concentrated on what they had _now_ to rid himself of the stress.

Matthew's mind wandered for awhile, wondering what to do to help his brother get out of his depressing mood. Then his brain clicked as he thought of something.

"Al, let's take a day off tomorrow eh," he suggested with enthusiasm.

"What?" The older blond turned and stared at him with confusion.

"Call in and tell them you want a day off of work to recover from your injury today. They'll definitely agree, eh."

"What are you trying to... "

"And then we'll go spend the whole day together! Just you and me, eh!" Matthew gave his brother an excited look. "It has been a long time since we last hang out with each other. It'll be just the two of us for the whole day!"

"That sounds... AWESOME!" cried Alfred, looking just as excited as his younger brother. "We can go anywhere we want like the movies, the mall, the aquarium..."

"... The park, the arcade ..." Matthew added.

"Yeah!" Cheered Alfred. "It's going to be an awesome Brother Hangout Day!"

Seeing that his brother's mood has brightened up, Matthew smiled in relief. He was glad Alfred was cheering up and excited for their sudden day off tomorrow. It was going to be great. Though, he hoped that this would help his older brother feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment please.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Next chapter will be up next week again.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter for the Brother Bonding arc. Enjoy the Alfred and Matthew bonding moments.

_A blanket of darkness with millions of tiny specks of light covered the sky while Alfred was scribbling away on a paper at his desk. He has been going through many documents and flipping through several books with only the light of a candle to illuminate his small and unorganized office. It was getting late and his eyes were getting tired from staring at the papers for hours. He massaged his eyes to relieve the slight heaviness, but it didn't do much to help. He was still tired from overworking himself, but he must keep searching if he ever wished to find any leads to his younger brother._

_It has already been a year since he worked in the Library of Congress, a part of the government facility that stored almost every records and books in its building. If he wanted to find any information on someone, this place was the most likely place to have any records of them. Yet, he has been going through hundreds of books and documents, but he still couldn't find any leads to his lost brother._

_But he didn't give up._

_He'll find him no matter what. He promised him that he'll come and find him. He was not going to break that promise._

_Even if that promise was made half a century ago._

_Even after so many years, Alfred still looked young and youthful like a young adult, even though he should be an old wrinkly man. He didn't know why he stopped aging, but all he cared about right now was finding his brother._

_Yet, there was something whispering in his mind that made him anxious and unsure._

_What about his brother? Was he aging like normal people? Was he old now? Was he even alive?_

_No, he mustn't lose hope and give in to his fears. He promised to find him and that was all he should care about. It didn't matter if his brother was old or not. All he wanted was to be reunited with him._

_That was enough reason for him to continue his search._

_Without warning, a searing pain pierced his chest and he gasped in shock. But as fast as it came, it was gone,_

_What just happened? Was he just imagining it? Maybe he really did overworked himself and his body was now retaliating. He hasn't slept well for awhile, not since the United States of America declared war in 1812. It has been one fight after another._

_Once again, the pain in his chest shot back, but this time, it lasted much longer._

_"Argh!" he cried in pain. It was like his heart was on fire and burning through his chest. What was happening to him? The pain got worse to the point that he fell to the floor, grasping his chest. Was he getting a heart attack?_

_It hurt so much it was almost unbearable. He wanted it to stop._

_Was he dying? What about his younger brother, Matthew? Was he never going to see him again?_

_A strong scent of burning wood hit his nose. What was that? A fire? From where?_

_Just when he was in an agonizing pain, a fire struck out? Talk about a terrible timing. Did that meant he was going to be burnt alive? He had to get out quick and find help._

_He pushed himself up with all the strength he could muster while enduring the torturous pain in his chest and dragged himself to the door. When the door swung open, a wave of heat wash over him._

_Sure enough, watching from the balcony of the second floor, the bottom floor was ablaze and there were figures of men running about, setting more objects on fire._

_Those red uniforms… they were British soldiers! How did they get here?!_

_With no time to ponder, he decided that he needed to escape quick or the flames will get to him. He went back into his office and went to the nearest window. He tried to open the damn thing, but his hands were still shaking from the pain. It became difficult for him to unlatched the lever that locked the window shut. By the time he got the window to open, the smell of smoke was so strong that it made him cough like crazy._

_His office was on the second floor of the building, a long drop from above no human being would take without breaking a bone or two, but he wasn't normal after all. He leaned over on the windowsill and fell towards the ground._

_Fortunately for him, there was a bush right under his office window, so it helped soften his landing. He fell with a soft thud and rustling of leaves. There was a sound of a crunch, but he couldn't tell if he broke anything since the pain in his chest still overwhelmed him._

_The night sky was lit from the flames from the burning structure of the library and smoke rose into the air towards the heavens. The smell of burning wood was everywhere._

_Once again, Alfred forced himself to move to get away from the burning building. Enduring the torturous pain, he dragged himself through the ground on all fours and tried to escape into the trees to hide from any British soldiers that might be in the area._

_He needed to run away quick. Get away from here. Who knew what those British soldiers would do to him. He needed to hide._

_Alfred was able to get himself a good distance away from the building, but the heat of the flames could still be felt. The fire was enveloping the whole structure in its beautiful, yet destructive, flames. The pain in his chest was getting worse._

_Needing a break, he leaned on a tree to rest and prayed that no British soldiers would find him here. He tried to take deep breath to relieve his pain and prepare to move himself again, but no matter how much he breathed, the pain just got worse. It got so bad that Alfred was clutching his chest with both hands as if he was trying to rip his coat and shirt right off. His consciousness was threatening to black out and his vision was getting blurry._

_Why did he have to be in this state at a time like this? Was he truly dying? Was his time finally up?_

_He didn't want to go now. He still wanted to see his brother. Why did it have to end like this?_

" _Mattie… I'm sorry… I wasn't able to keep my promise…"_

_He just wanted to see his brother… at least one last time…_

Snap!

_What was that?_

_Through his blurry vision, Alfred could make out a figure, slowly walking up towards him. Even if he can't see clearly, he could tell it was a red British uniform._

* * *

At a small theatre somewhere in town, a small stream of people walked out of the doors of the building, chatting to themselves about the movie they just watched. It was a weekday, so there weren't as many people at the theatre at this time and the best time to watch a movie without worrying about available seats.

Among the crowd of people were two blonds wearing glasses. One was talking loudly and very excitedly while the other listened attentively without disturbing him.

"That was so awesome! The part where the hero came swooping in right at the last minute and stopped the spaceship from falling onto the city was SO FUCKING HEROIC! And the part when we find out who the real mastermind was was so unexpected! It was a great twist to the story! Oh! And when the hero…" Alfred rambled on and on as Matthew listened quietly.

Matthew knew that his brother would get very into talking about the movie and it would be futile to cut in when he's like this. His older brother has been looking forward to watching this movie for months since he saw the trailer. But because they just recently moved into town and were busy working to pay for the rent, they haven't had time to watch a movie. Alfred loved hero and alien type movies, so this movie was a big treat for him since it had both of them combined.

Alfred's mood has definitely gotten better after yesterday. He was really looking forward to a vacation and spend time with his brother. Sure, they see each other at home, but it's not the same when it came to hanging out at home and actually going out with each other.

They had breakfast at McDonalds before going to the movies. Of course, Alfred ordered a dozen sausage McMuffins, half a dozen sausage burritos, five sets of the Big Breakfast with hotcakes meal, eight boxes of cinnamon melts, and one very large coffee from Starbucks. How he was able to stuff all that in was a mystery to anyone who saw all that food on the table. Even Matthew wasn't sure how his brother was able to eat all that and not get sick from it. The younger blond only ordered hotcakes and a small coffee from Starbucks. Although he ordered six stacks of hot cakes and brought his own family size bottle of maple syrup, it still can't compare to his older brother's portion. A good dozen of eyes and just as many phone cameras recorded Alfred finishing all that food with disbelief.

As usual, the guy at the theatre ticket booth didn't noticed Matthew, who was standing right beside his older brother, and gave Alfred one ticket instead of two. Since this happens very often with the quiet blond, he just calmly corrected the ticket guy, who then realized he was there, to get _his_ ticket. The ticket guy quickly apologized in embarrassment for his mistake as he printed the ticket for him.

This wasn't the first time this happened and Matthew didn't expect it to be the last. Even back at the fast-food place, the cashier didn't see or heard him and almost missed him by mistake. Alfred had to order for him on the second time after Matthew failed to get the attention of the fast-food worker.

Alfred had even wondered if something was wrong with his younger brother. He had to admit a few times that he didn't notice Matthew was in the same room as him until his brother spoke up. It was strange, but considering that he himself ate more than the average human, so he can't say much.

They guessed that they were just different. Not that they were normal to begin with anyways. Alfred had his inhuman strength and large appetite while Matthew could make his presence invisible.

"So where are we off to next, lil' bro?" Alfred turned to Matthew.

"Hmm… There's the mall or maybe the aquarium, eh…" suggested Matthew.

"The aquarium!" Alfred cried out like a child cheering for a favorite amusement park.

"The aquarium, it is," the younger blond said.

The aquarium was next to the seaport at the edge of town. It was about fifty minutes drive to the port, but Alfred loved the sea, so they didn't mind the long drive.

When they got there, the weather was sunny with only a few fluffy clouds and the seagulls squawking loudly in the sky. Like before, the girl at the ticket booth didn't notice Matthew until Alfred had to clearly state that they want _two_ tickets and grabbed his brother into clear view for the lady to see.

"Honestly, Mattie, what's with you and being invisible?" Alfred asked, sounding vex. "What happens if you fainted on a crowded street? Would anybody even notice your body?"

"Sometimes, I worry about that myself…" sighed Matthew. Of course, he has thought about this many times. His almost nonexistent presence to the people around him was good when he wanted to sneak around and go unnoticed, but often times, it can be so troublesome.

Inside the aquarium, Alfred immediately dragged his younger brother to the closest fish tank, which happened to be the colorful coral reef filled with tropical fish. Then they started to go down the halls filled with several more tanks and sea creatures.

Alfred was having the time of his life. He made weird faces at a pufferfish in hopes that it would blow up like a balloon and played rock-paper-scissor with an octopus, which he somehow lost five out of six times. At the sea otter and penguin ponds, Alfred tried to feed the animals fries and Matthew barely stopped him in time. The deep sea creatures was full of glowing fish, giant starfish, and bizarre looking crabs. The older of the blond commented how the crabs and starfish reminded him of some alien creatures in a sci-fi game and wondered if they attack humans as well. Matthew doubt it, but it seemed Alfred was entertained by that idea for some reason and the younger blond didn't know whether to be concerned or not.

At the sea lion show, Alfred somehow managed to join in with the crowd of children in the front seats and was cheering with the young audience just like a kid. Matthew was practically covering his face in embarrassment at his brother's immature behavior. It got worse when Alfred was singing with the kids and clapping with the sea lions. At times like this, Matthew was thankful for his invisible presence.

But out of all the exhibit they went to, Alfred's favorite was the giant tank where there was a glass tunnel they could walk through and sea the whole tank from below. The large fish, sharks, and rays swam by them without care and the smaller sea creatures stayed at the bottom or swam in the open water in large schools. It looked amazing to see it from below and both blonds were awed by the view.

"Mattie! Mattie! Look!" called Alfred, sounding very excited at something. The older blond pointed to somewhere above them, so Matthew turned to where he was indicating. In that direction, the younger blond spotted a silhouette of a large fish. It took awhile to figure out what it was from it's slow movement.

"It's a whale, eh," thought Matthew.

"Look! Look! It's coming this way!" Alfred was now jumping up and down like an excited child.

The whale that Alfred spotted was a white and quite round, but none of the blond seems to be able to identify what specie it was. It wasn't as large as a blue whale, but it wasn't small either.

As it swam close to the glass, it seemed to be watching Alfred with interest. Matthew was confused by this strange behavior. Why was this whale fascinated with his brother? It also seemed to be smiling at them as if greeting them. Can whales even do that!?

"Mattie, it's saying hi!" announced Alfred.

Now the whale was waving one of its fin at them.

Matthew was dumbfounded. What kind of intelligent whale was this!?

The whale then swam away to play with a school of needlefish.

"That was so cool, Mattie! I didn't know whales could say hi!" said Alfred, still looking exhilarated by that little incident.

"Neither did I, Al," agreed Matthew, still dazed from confusion.

Out of the corner of Alfred's eyes, he spotted a little sign and went to read it. "It says that the whale is being treated here because it was found caught in an oil spill not too long ago. Once it gets better, they'll release it back into the wild. That's so neat! It's so heroic of them!"

"That's good," I nodded in agreement. "The little fella can go home cured and healthy, eh."

Through the underwater tunnel, they went to a few more exhibits like the jellyfish, seahorses, and shellfish. Once again, Alfred was back with playing rock-paper-scissor, but with the crabs this time. Unlike last time with the octopus, he won every round because the only thing a crab could make were scissors. It was an easy win.

Matthew, on the other hand, face palmed himself as kids were pointing at the older blond's childish challenge to a lobster next. Their parents had to quickly hush them and pull them away to not catch the attention of the weird young man. Matthew had to practically beg and drag Alfred away from the large shellfish.

When they got to the freshwater fish, the two brothers reminiscent about the old days of living in the outdoors and fishing from the rivers. Back then, the water was clean and fish were plentiful. Now, the water quality was questionable and there weren't as many fish as they used to. Even if there were fish, there will be the issues like laws on fishing or if the fish was safe to eat in the first place.

Once it was evening, the two brothers left the aquarium with a satisfied smile on their faces. Their time at the marine facility was definitely enjoyable, even if it did brought some embarrassment for the younger blond. Their goal was to have a good time and so far, it's been great for them.

Since they were also at the beach, they decided to take a stroll on the sandy shores next. The sun set was beautiful at this time and the sound of soft waves washing onto the beach was peaceful. There were some people on the beach as well. Many were teens who were having a bonfire and partying wildly. There were a few that were taking a jog and walking their dogs with the nice scenery to look at.

With the temperature dropping and cold wind blowing, Alfred started to complained about how cold he was. Matthew, on the other hand, didn't feel bothered by it that much. They decided to claim one of the campfires provided at these beaches. After lighting up a fire, the warm blaze from the small flames helped warm them up and Alfred finally stopped shivering.

"It's really nice, isn't it," spoke Alfred, raising his hands out towards the fire. "Sitting here in front of a fire like this. It's like old times when we were living in the wild."

Matthew didn't say anything as he listened attentively.

"It beats being alone," Alfred gazed into the dancing flames as if deep in thought.

"Alfred…?" Matthew turned to his brother when he noticed the strange tone in Alfred's voice.

"When I was on my own, the only thing that kept me motivated was searching for you," Alfred continued, "Even after so many years and realized that I wasn't growing any older, I still prayed that I could find you. I didn't care if you had became an old man or had a family. As long as I got to see you again, it would be enough. But here we are, so many freaking years later! Sitting by the beach together. I'm glad we ended up together like this."

Hearing from his own brother's mouth made Matthew feel happy and content. He was glad that Alfred gave him so much importance and was thankful to have a brother like him.

Yet… a sense of guilt started to crawl itself in his heart when he recalled something from the past. He was on his own too and wandered around for so many years. Unlike his brother, who was optimistic and strong willed, Matthew wasn't as hopeful and gave up of seeing his brother after two decades.

"Alfred…"

"Yeah, Mattie?"

"I'm also glad we were able to be together again, eh," Matthew gave a soft, yet guilty smile. Maybe it was time to be honest with his brother since Alfred was already being so open with him and maybe it would help lessen the guilt he held on for so long. "When I was living with the Williams, I kept dreaming of you coming for me and I would be so happy. But once I wake up, I would realize it was just a dream and would cry about it. When I realized that I wasn't aging like normal people, I got afraid and decided to leave the William's residence, eh. After many decades, I started to become afraid of what I was. I was afraid people would find out and would lock me away like some strange creature. I was also afraid of seeing you…"

Now it was Alfred's turn to stare at his brother.

"I didn't know if I was the only one that was not aging right and _you_ were the one turning old. I didn't want to admit that I was the only freak if I saw you all old and wrinkled, so I thought it was better off if I never see you, eh…"

A short silence fell between the two brothers with only the crackling of the campfire and the sound of the waves in the background until Alfred spoke.

"You didn't… want to _see me?_ " Alfred looked at him, slightly heartbroken by those words. He spent so much time… so many years… looking for his brother, but his brother didn't want to see him?

"I was afraid, Alfred… Afraid of seeing you old while I stayed young. Being the only freak to wander among normal humans. So I thought it was better that I never see you again… and maybe you wouldn't have to know that your own brother was anything but normal… and… you wouldn't hate me for it."

"Mattie, why would I ever hate you for it?!" demanded Alfred, clearly not happy that his younger brother didn't trust him. "You're my brother! I would love you no matter what!"

"I didn't know that!" Matthew almost shouted. "It was so many years and I wasn't sure if you changed or not. And I don't mean by appearances. What if your personality and thoughts changed? What if you weren't the cheerful and accepting person anymore? I'm not as optimistic as you!"

"Mattie…" Alfred muttered sadly.

"To keep myself from completely going insane and sink into depression, I tried to work very hard to keep my mind busy. But I couldn't stay in one place for too long so I moved around. I even joined the British army… the army that attacked your homeland!"

"But… if you didn't… then we wouldn't have found each other, remember?" told Alfred. There was no accusation or hatred in those words when he said that. Only thankfulness and warmth.

Matthew turned to his brother in confusion and saw not a grudging frown, but a grateful smile.

"If you hadn't join them, then you wouldn't have been in Washington that day in 1814…"

* * *

_Alfred was unable to move after escaping the burning building and now it seemed he was found by the enemy. There was no chance he could get away now._

" _Al… Alfred?" Came a voice from the British soldier._

_Surprised, the blond looked up, wondering how the soldier knew his name. Through his hazy vision, he was able to make out blond colored hair and the burning red uniform. He tried to focus hard until his vision was clear enough to see who this mysterious stranger was._

_The man before him had slightly long and curly blond hair and he didn't look any older than him. But what really shocked him was his face. It looked almost exactly like him except those eyes... they were violet... those familiar violet eyes..._

_"Ma-Mattie," Alfred coughed, trying to speak through the pain in his chest. Why wasn't the pain going away like it usually did? His fast healing ability hasn't acted this weird since the American Revolution._

_But no pain can ever compare to the bewilderment and joy that Alfred was feeling at that moment. His brother was here... Mattie was right here standing before him. He even looked young as him. Not an old man, but a young adult. A sense of relief overwhelmed him and he could feel tears swelling in his eyes. He wasn't alone anymore._

_"Oh god, Alfred!" Matthew ran to his brother. "Alfred! I can't believe it's you! But... How... You're not..."_

_"An old man?" Alfred finished for him. "So haven't you, Mattie."_

_"I... Why are you here? You shouldn't be here! The British are planning to burn the White House, eh," told Matthew. "We have to get you out of here before any of the other soldiers see you."_

" _The British are planning to burn down the White House?" Alfred stared at him, stumped at the news. "What about you? Why are you with the British? Why are you wearing their red coat?"_

" _Alfred, listen! I'll explain everything later, but please! You need to get out of here," begged Matthew, getting flustered. "Can you get up? Did you get hurt, eh?"_

" _I have this really bad pain in my chest that came out of nowhere," told Alfred, still clutching his chest. He tried to push himself to stand up, but was having difficulty._

_Matthew quickly grabbed Alfred's hand just as he was about to fall down and threw it over his shoulders. With Matthew's other hand grabbing onto his brother by his belt, he lifted Alfred up. "Let me help."_

_The older blond nodded with a thankful smile on his face and walked with Matthew while leaning on him for support. For the first time in his life, Alfred felt relief overwhelmed him. It was like a piece of him that was missing for so long was found. His long search has finally ended._

_The two men quickly disappeared into the trees, away from the burning building that was now completely ablaze behind them._

* * *

"If you hadn't been there, we wouldn't have found each other," Alfred smiled softly. "Even if you did join the British army, we were able to meet each other in the end and I'll be forever thankful for that. I was able to keep my promise and found you. Ever since then, we have never been apart again."

"Yeah…," nodded Matthew. He had always felt guilty about joining the British army when Alfred was against them during that period of history. He thought his brother would hold a grudge against him for it, but it was clear now that Alfred never did. With his conscience cleared up, the weight in Matthew's chest felt lighter. "Technically, I was the one that found _you_ , eh."

"Details, details. It's not that important, right?" Alfred waved it off. "What's important is that we found each other."

Matthew couldn't help but chuckled a little at this. "Right… And we'll always stick together."

"Yep! Always."

Then Alfred lifted up a fist towards his brother. Knowing what his brother wanted, Matthew raised his own and gave him a fist bump.

"Brothers forever…"

"Brothers always…"

* * *

Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, a commercial airline coming from Europe was flying through the dark night sky.

_Ding!_

[Good morning ladies and gentle. This is your captain speaking. We will be arriving at XXX airport at 9:40 AM local time, thirty minutes from now, as scheduled. The weather is sunny and the temperature is…]

The announcement went on throughout the cabins within the large airliner. The sound of the engines outside rumbled loudly as the aircraft flew through the sky.

Sitting at his seat in the first class cabin, a man with messy blond hair and green eyes stared out the window at the beautiful blue sky with white fluffy clouds floating about. The view down below was the vast blue ocean with small islands here and there. It was a nice sight to see, but he had seen it so many times that its former charm and beauty had long disappeared.

"It looks like ve vill be arriving in America soon, England," said another blond haired man, in a French accent, who was sitting right across the aisle. His hair was slightly long and reached his shoulders. His eyes were blue and shining with playfulness. " 'Ow I vish ve can still spend our lovely time together more."

"Like hell I would stay in this damn aircraft with you any longer that it needs to be, frog," the man called England retorted back in a British accent, but still gazing out the window. If he could, he would rather go on another plane, but he didn't know that this cheese eating bastard was going to be on this same plane until the last minute. Changing flights was out of the question by that time, so he had to bear sitting for eight hours with this bastard right across from him.

Unfazed by the British man's insult, the man, known as France by his _own kind_ and high officials in governments, snorted a laughter before flirting with an air hostess that came walking by.

Why were these two men were named after countries? Because they _are_ the countries themselves. They were the personification, the embodiment, the physical form of their nation. They represent their people in both their culture and stereotype. They have existed at the same time their people created their government and nation. Of course, they were not the only ones. They were others like them. Many of them have existed for thousands of years while some were no more than a century old. Nations like them can only live as long as they have their government and citizens.

Yet, why was North America the only continent in the world without personifications like them? For some bizarre reason, the United States of America and Canada never had their kind come into existence. The European nations had searched for many years since the colonial period and were unable to find any traces of that land's personifications like them.

England couldn't understand why they couldn't find the personifications of the little colonies that should have been born when their people came to this land centuries ago. Was there even one to begin with?

Through the small window cabin of the plane, England was able to make out a small speck of land in the horizon.

So they were almost there… To the strange land known as North America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave feedbacks or comments.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Alrighty! Done with the Brother Bonding time and now it's time our favorite NA brothers meet some nations from here on out.
> 
> Next chapter up next week as usual


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet a nation

_The Boston ship port was bustling with activity as ships sailed in and out with people loading and unloading cargos from the ships. Fishermen unloaded their catch of the day to be sold at the market while sailors prepared to depart for their long journey across the ocean._

_Although the port was crowded, there was a spot packed with the townsfolk. A large British ship recently docked and it seemed to cause some commotion. The crowd whispered among themselves about the men that this ship has brought._

_A blond haired boy that seemed to be around his early teens wiggled himself through the crowd to see what all the commotion was about. He could feel the unpleasant and disgruntled emotions pervading from these men and women as they stood before the ship._

_From the looks of the flag, it was a British vessel, but not the merchant kind. It seemed to be much larger and more majestic. A military ship, then?_

_Sure enough, several men began to walk down from the large ship and they were all wearing red British uniforms. The atmosphere in the crowd turned even more hostile. The whispers were getting louder and harsher as the men in red stepped onto the dock._

_On the other hand, the boy stared in wonder at the men with his large blue eyes. He has seen British officers in town before. The tension between the British officers and the colonists were pretty tensed with constant disagreements between them. Normally, the boy would just stay clear of these, but something about this group felt different somehow. Something told him to come today._

_His eyes fell upon one particular British officer. Something about him felt different from the rest of the men. The way he held himself up as he walked down the ramp felt regal and dignified as if he was an officer of high position. Said man had messy short blond hair and thick bushy eyebrows. His green eyes felt old and ancient even though he didn't look any older than the officer next to him. His cold gaze swept through the crowd as if examining the folks with disinterest._

_That was when those ancient green eyes locked onto the boy's innocent blue._

* * *

Like most mornings, Matthew had to get out of bed, get changed, make breakfast, and wake up his lazy brother before he's late for work. It was almost a routine thing he did for a long time now and accepted that he had to be the responsible one if his older brother wasn't going to.

"Alfred, wake up!" ordered Matthew, pulling off the blankets when Alfred didn't budge.

"Nooooo… Don't wanna…," Alfred whined and tried to press himself deep into the mattress to escape the cold.

Matthew sighed in frustration. "Didn't you tell me that the museum is going to have some new stuff coming in today, eh? Shouldn't you go help them?"

"Hmm… Yeah…," Alfred mumbled back, sounding half asleep half awake.

"Then get yourself ready or you're going to be late again," told Matthew. "Also, I have to go out early since I have early shift today."

"Got it…" The older blond finally rose up out of bed like a zombie and dragged himself into the bathroom.

Finally getting his older brother to get out of bed, Matthew can now leave the apartment without worry. He wasn't joking when he said he needed to leave early. Unfortunately, someone called in for a leave on family business yesterday so his manager asked Matthew to take their shift.

"Don't forget to bandage your head, eh," Matthew reminded his brother as he was putting his shoes on.

During their day off, he and Alfred had discussed faking the older brother's injury for the time being. Their plan was that Alfred wrapped a roll of bandages around his head for the next couple of days to, so nobody would find out about their fast healing ability. Afterwards, they'll switch to those big bandaids so nobody would notice the nonexistent scar. If anyone asked, Alfred would just tell them that he didn't feel comfortable of people staring at his scar so he preferred to have it covered up.

"Yeah yeah," Alfred replied back from the bathroom.

Once Matthew got a confirmation from his brother, he left the apartment immediately.

Everything seemed normal when he took the usual route to work. People walking by, cars driving down the streets, and loud music being played from stores. Yeah, nothing that different.

The large building he walked past every day had its gate opened with men in black suit and sunglasses wandering around and there were men cutting the grass and bushes. Were they preparing for something?

Remembering what the locals here told him, he guessed that some meeting was going to take place here again. But why was the security so… tight? These men were in black suit just like in the movies. It was just a meeting, right? What kind of meeting required so many men in black?

Remembering that he had to work soon, Matthew quickened his pace and continued down his path to the cafe.

* * *

Alfred ran as fast as he could into the men's locker room and changed his clothes as quickly as possible before running out like a panicked rabbit.

"I'm here!" Alfred announced once he spotted Fred and Paul in the office room.

"Good thing the boss is talking with the donor in his office right now or he would have caught you again," told Fred.

"Yeah, I know right?" Alfred grinned childishly

"So how's your head, _amigo?_ " Paul asked with concern, staring at the bandages around the blond's head.

"It's alright. Just a small scar. It'll heal pretty quickly," replied Alfred, as casually as possible.

"No broken skull?" wondered Fred.

"Nope. My head is as hard as a rock," Alfred knocked his head with his fist a few times to emphasize his point.

"Well, that's good to hear," sighed Fred, relieved. "You got us pretty worried with all that blood you spilled. The whole staff also got pretty worried when they heard what happened."

Alfred was very well-liked among the staff at the museum. Although he was immature at times, his optimistic, friendly, and lively attitude made people gravitate towards him. He was easy to talk to and people naturally felt comfortable with him like he was a long time friend.

"Don't push yourself too hard today, okay?" advised Paul, concerned.

"No need to worry, dudes! I'm a hero, so a bump on the head isn't going to take me down so easily!" assured Alfred. Then he proceeded with a loud obnoxious laughter.

At that moment, the door of the office opened and a figure of their boss entered the room. Following behind him was another man that Alfred didn't recognize. The man looked pretty young, maybe in his early twenties? His hair was a messy blond and he had a pair of thick bushy eyebrows over his green eyes. The way he walked and stood beside his boss seemed almost regal. Even though the stranger didn't look older than him, his demeanor felt professional. It was like that man himself was some noble.

"Good morning, men," greeted their boss. "I see that all of you are here today," he eyed Alfred's head especially when he said that, "How are you, Mr. Jones? Is your head okay?"

"Yep! I'm super good today, so no worries," assured Alfred, giving his boss a thumbs up. "Thank you for your concern, boss."

"If you say so." He accepted Alfred's answer and turned to the man beside him. "Mr. Kirkland, I like you to meet three of my staff, who will be helping you unload your antiques. Men, I like you all to meet our gracious donor, Mr. Kirkland."

Kirkland? Why did that last name sounded familiar?

"He came all the way from Britain for a business trip and was kind enough to go out of his way to deliver and donate some of his own antiques he owned to this museum," the boss explained.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kirkland," greeted Fred, holding out his right hand. "Name's Fred."

"Likewise," Mr. Kirkland replied with a clear British accent. He reached out and shook Fred's hand.

"Hi, I'm Paul," Paul also reached out a hand for a shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Paul," The guy smiled politely at the Latino and shook his hand.

Now it was Alfred's turn. "Heya! I'm Alfred, but you can call me 'Al' if you want," Alfred said, pointing his thumb at himself.

At that moment, when his eyes were locked onto those green eyes, Alfred felt a sudden jolt swept through his body.

Those eyes… they felt old for some reason. Almost ancient…

And so familiar…

"Are you alright, lad?" Mr. Kirkland asked, staring at him strangely.

"I-I'm fine," Alfred replied quickly. That was strange… have they met?

Mr. Kirkland gave him a suspicious look, but that disappeared when the boss spoke up again.

"Mr. Kirkland's valuables are in his van in the back. You three follow Mr. Kirkland to his van and carry them to the storage room carefully," their boss ordered.

"Yes, sir," nodded Fred.

"Got it, boss," Alfred replied cheerfully.

Paul didn't say anything, but nodded that he understood.

"No messing around. I mean it, Alfred," the boss said sternly while giving the young blond a hard look. "I don't want to have another incident like two days ago."

"Sir, yes, sir, bossman, sir," Alfred saluted with a fake serious look.

His boss couldn't help but roll his eyes at this behavior, but didn't bother reprimanding him for it. He just can't seem to hate the boy even when he normally didn't like incompetent workers.

After that little introduction, the three men followed the British man to his van, which was parked behind the museum in the employees' parking lot. When they reached the large vehicle, Mr. Kirkland pulled out his car key and unlocked the doors for them.

"The boxes are in the back. Be careful when carrying them. A few of them are heavy and fragile," Mr. Kirkland told the three men as he opened up the back door of the van.

"No problemo! We can carry anything! We're professionals!" assured Alfred.

Mr. Kirkland didn't seem convinced by Alfred's confidence. He just kept staring at Alfred strangely, which made the younger blond feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Uh… Mr. Kirkland?" Alfred called.

"Are you sure you should be carrying anything?" the British man asked.

"Wha…?"

"You're injured," Mr. Kirkland pointed to his bandaged head.

"Oh! This?" Alfred pointed at his head. "No worries! I'm fine! It was just a little bump."

"A _little_ bump?!" Fred stared at Alfred, incredibly. "It was a _marble_ jug, Alfred! _Marble!_ "

"And I said I'm fine!" Alfred argued back. "I took a day off yesterday, so I'm super okay now!"

"Hmph! You better be," Fred said in a serious tone. "Or I'll make sure you're on desk duty until that head of yours heals up."

"I knooooowwww," groaned Alfred. "I'm not some fragile piece of glass. I got worse injuries than this and healed up just fine."

"Really?" Mr. Kirkland gave him a curious look.

"Yep," nodded Alfred.

"Alright, but don't push yourself too hard then," advised Mr. Kirkland, still concerned.

One by one, Alfred and the others carried the boxes into the museum's storage room. There were a few large boxes that required two of them to carry since it was also heavy. The smaller ones tended to be lighter, but Alfred did found some of them to be heavier than the rest. Not that he had any problem carrying these. They may be heavy, but Alfred had lifted heavier stuff than this with one hand.

But honestly, what the hell were inside these small boxes?! Lead?

Mr. Kirkland did look worried when he carried the heavy boxes, but Alfred assured him he was doing fine. He even proved to the British man by carrying two of the heavy but small boxes with each hand without breaking a sweat.

"You're quite strong, aren't you, lad," said Mr. Kirkland, impressed.

"Not 'quite.' I _am_ strong," corrected Alfred, smirking in pride. His chest puffed up proudly as he walked back into the museum with the two heavy boxes.

Hearing this, Mr. Kirkland gave a slight irritated frown. "Typical arrogant Americans," he mumbled quietly to himself as he followed the young blond with a box in his arms.

"You say something?" Alfred turned to look at him while still walking ahead.

"Nothing… It's Alfred, correct?" asked Mr. Kirkland. Just to be sure.

"Yep! Alfred F. Jones at your service!" smiled Alfred, turning his head back to the front.

"Alfred _F_. Jones? What does the 'F' stand for?" Mr. Kirkland asked, curious.

"Franklin," told Alfred. "Like in Benjamin Franklin."

"I see. Does your parents admire him to name you after the man?" wondered Kirkland.

"Well… no, I added that myself," explained Alfred.

The reason why he based his middle name from such a famous figure was because he knew the man personally. When he was in Philadelphia during the mid 1770s, he was able to work as his assistance for a few years. The man was also his mentor and tutored him when he discovered Alfred never had a proper education. Benjamin was an inventor and many times, he would barge into his office while Alfred was working and announce a new idea or invention he wanted to create. Though, not all his ideas really worked, but it was still quite fun to help assist the man with his strange inventions and experiments. Of course, he didn't know it back then that the man he worked for would become one of the famous Founding Fathers of America. Alfred still remembered the day when the congressmen were still arguing in meetings about breaking free from British control to the day they signed the Declaration of Independence. It was thanks to Mr. Franklin that he was able to sit in these meetings and watched the whole thing happened. Watching America established itself to be an independent nation was the proudest moment of his life.

"Added yourself? Don't you pay for that?" Mr. Kirkland looked at him with slight surprise.

"Yep," confirmed Alfred. "By the way, if you don't mind me asking, what's your name, Mr. Kirkland? I already told you mine, it would only be fair if I know yours, right?"

A little surprised, but Mr. Kirkland agreed. "Arthur Kirkland."

_Arthur?_ Once again, the sound of the name felt familiar and Alfred wasn't sure why. Arthur was a pretty common name, so he probably heard the name often, but _Arthur Kirkland?_ He could've sworn he heard that name somewhere before. But where?

Before Alfred could remember where he heard that name, the two of them had already arrived in the storage room. Fred and Paul had already piled the boxes in the area they cleared up for the past three days and was starting to open them to see what was inside. They needed to check what kind of a stuff they got so they can record it later. As Alfred stacked the two small boxes in his arms down, Paul was already opening one of the larger ones. The latino man pulled out a box cutter and began cutting through the taped flaps.

Curious, Alfred went to check out what was in the box as Paul opened the cardboard container. The first thing that Alfred saw inside of it was a bright red coat. Not just any red coat, but a British army red uniform that Alfred recognized almost immediately.

* * *

_Alfred was hungry and tired after working early this morning to deliver newspapers all over town. He has been working as a delivery boy for a while to help pay for food. He finally got paid today and he bought himself a loaf of bread from the bakery for his growling stomach. The warm and delicious smell of a bread that just came out of the oven made his mouth water with hunger. Just when he thought his day started off pretty good as he was about to enjoy his lunch, a stray dog leaped out of nowhere and snatched his bread right out of his hands._

" _Hey! Stop!" shouted Alfred, chasing after the mutt._

_The dirty canine didn't slow down, but instead, ran even faster. It dashed into a narrow and dark alley with the boy following behind._

" _Give that back, you stupid dog!"_

_The blond teen continued to chase it down the alley. Trying to lose it's human pursuer, the dog would make sudden turns into other alleys when it can and even knocked down stack of boxes and barrows on its way. Alfred had to dodge and jump over these obstacles with a lot of effort to keep the dog in his sight._

_At the end of the alley, the dog leaped into the open street where people were strolling by. Alfred followed and dashed into the streets as well. But due to being in a dark area for quite some time and jumping right into the sunlight suddenly, his eyes got blinded by the strong light and didn't see that someone had walked right into his path. Alfred crashed right into the person and was knocked backwards onto the ground._

" _Ow!" he cried, massaging his butt in pain._

" _What in Merlin's beard?!" cried the person Alfred bumped into._

" _I'm so sorry! I didn't see where I was goin…" Alfred paused in his apology when he looked up to see two familiar ancient green eyes. The man standing before him was the British officer he saw at the docks! There was no way he could mistaken those green eyes and thick bushy eyebrows anywhere. The man before him was also not alone. He had three other men with him and they were all in their red uniforms. The four of them really stood out among the locals here._

" _Are you all right, lad?" the man asked._

" _Uh-Yes! I'm fine," Alfred quickly answered, nervously. Was he going to be in trouble for bumping into these British soldiers?_

" _Arthur?" one of the men asked, slightly concerned._

_"I'm quite alright," The man called Arthur replied to his companion before turning back to the boy in front of him. Then the man knelt down and reached out a hand towards him. "You seemed to be in quite a hurry. You gave us quite a surprise running into us like that."_

_"I'm sorry," apologized Alfred, taking the British man's hand. "I didn't watch where I was going."_

_Arthur helped pull Alfred up off the ground and onto his feet. That was when Alfred's stomach decided to make a complaint_

Growl

_This made the boy blushed bright red and the British men stared at him with amusement._

_"Are you hungry?" asked Arthur. "Have you eaten anything yet?"_

_"I was about to, but a dog took my lunch," Alfred said glumly, looking down at his worn out shoes._

_"Well, lad, what do you think about joining me and my men for lunch?" Arthur asked, causing both the teen and his men to look at him with surprise._

_"Arthur, are you sure? He's a colonist boy," argued another of the red uniformed men._

_"It's quite alright, Charles. Can't you see the boy is starving. He probably hasn't had a decent meal in a while," reasoned Arthur. "What do you say, lad? I'll pay for your meal."_

_"Uh... y-yes please," replied Alfred. At the same time, his stomach growled as if in agreement as well._

Growl

_Once again, Alfred blushed in embarrassment. He couldn't help it! He was starving!_

_Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's adorable demeanor._

_"Oh, where are my manners," Arthur remembered something. "I haven't properly introduced myself. I am Arthur Kirkland."_

_"I-I'm Alfred Jones, sir," Alfred quickly introduced himself. He was starting to feel a little nervous._

_"Well, Alfred, let's go get us something to eat," told Arthur._

Growl

_"Yes, sir," Alfred nodded, blushing the third time that day. Why couldn't his stomach just shut up?!_

_"Just call me Arthur."_

* * *

Alfred froze as he started recall old memories… _very old_ memories. He turned back to Arthur and studied the man's features carefully. Those green eyes... those thick eyebrows... even their names… They were the same.

But how was that possible? The Arthur Kirkland he knew was three centuries ago!

"What are you staring at, Mr. Jones?" Arthur stared at him with a confused look.

"Oh uh..." Alfred tried to think fast. "How old are you?"

"...T-twenty three," Arthur answered. "Why?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like someone?"

"What?"

"You reminded me of someone I used to know a long time ago so I was just wondering if it was possible you might be related," explained Alfred.

"Oh! Well, I don't know of anyone who would look similar to me, but I've heard that there are people out there that look alike when they are not related," shrugged Arthur.

That's true, but they shared the name as well. Maybe he's a descendant of _that_ Kirkland? Might be possible. He has seen many documentaries of people that look like one of their ancestors or someone from the past. That would explain it. Not to mention, it's not unheard of for parents to name their children after their ancestors.

Coming to that conclusion, Alfred couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia in those green eyes and bushy eyebrows. It wasn't wrong to befriend someone's great-great-great-and-who-knows-how-many-more-great grandson, right?

"Mr. Jones?" Arthur called.

"Just call me 'Alfred' or 'Al'," he smiled at the man.

For the next half an hour, Alfred chatted with the British man nonstop as they unload the rest of the other boxes in the van. Although, it was mostly one sided since the Arthur didn't seem to be a talkative person, but he was a good listener. Alfred would be talking about where he traveled to with his brother all over America and Canada like hiking the Grand Canyon, touring New York, travel to the Rocky Mountains, sightseeing at the Niagara Falls, visiting Vancouver, and all that good stuff.

"You've been to a lot of places. You must really like to travel with your brother, don't you?" commented Arthur.

"Yep! Mattie likes Canada a lot so we often go up north several times. He also likes hockey and maple syrup a lot too. He's super Canadian, ya know," told Alfred, as he put the last of the boxes on another box in the storage.

Fred and Paul were already opening the boxes and recording what were inside. As Paul pulled out and identifying one object after another, Fred would note it down on his clipboard. There was a fancy hand-painted porcelain tea set with four teacups with saucers, a teapot, a tray, a creamer pitcher, and a sugar bowl. It was a very pretty and very well kept set. Then there were also the large set of silverwares, which their smooth and shiny surface seemed to have dulled due to time. There were also an vintage sewing machine with floral designs on it. Most likely the early 1900s. A good two or three dozen books were stacked in a pile with variety of sizes from thin as a magazines to thick as bricks, small pocket size to big giant textbook size, and paper back to hard covers. The only thing they all have in common was how yellow and worn out the pages were. There were still quite a lot more unopened boxes left, so Alfred was actually kinda eager to see what other historical antiques were in there.

Yet, out of all the antiques and vintage stuff, Alfred couldn't help but stare at the red British uniform that was now on a mannequin several times. It was definitely very old and worn out. There were even signs of rips and holes that were patched up. Its colors has also dulled and faded with time. There were also some faint brown stains that Alfred can guess from experience that were blood and dirt. This uniform definitely went through a lot and seen many battles in its early days.

"Are you fascinated by that uniform?" Arthur asked, noticing that Alfred had been staring at the worn out clothes for awhile.

"Y-yeah, just wondering what kind of hell it went through. Just look at all those stains and tears!" said Alfred. It wasn't like he was lying. He really did wonder if that uniform was the same one that the past Arthur wore back then.

Alfred's interested in the uniform seemed to have caused Arthur to frown a little as if he didn't like talking about that particular subject that much. "Yes, that uniform was worn before and during the Revolutionary war. It went through many battles and got damaged in the process."

"Have you ever worn one of these red coats?" wondered Alfred. "You would probably look natural in these." Remembering how the past Arthur look back then, he definitely looked pretty good in it. It was like the uniform was made just for him.

"Of course!" confirmed Arthur, giving the young man a smug look. "And I definitely looked quite dashing if I say so myself."

At Arthur's last comment, Alfred tried hard not to laugh out loud, but some of his chuckles was able to escape his lips.

"What's so funny?" demanded Arthur.

"Pff! You're just so—hahahaha! Talk about being narcissistic," Alfred lost control and laughed out before giving the man a teasing grin.

Arthur blushed with a scandalous look on his face.

"I look awesome in those Revolution uniform too, but I'll have to see if we have any I can borrow. If not, I can always go to the costume store and rent out one," thought Alfred, remembering the time he joined the army during the American Revolution. Like everybody else, he got excited when the colonies declared independence and fought to keep that freedom. "So what do you do for a living anyways? You said you wear those uniforms so are you one of those soldiers I see on TV that would stand still the whole day all stoic and everything like a statue?"

"Hmph! No, I work for the British government but in a far more important position than a guard," explained Arthur.

"The government? Damn! That's so cool!" exclaimed Alfred, amazed. "So what are you then? A politician?"

"Alfred! Stop interrogating the guy!" yelled Fred. "If you have so much time to chat then come and help us with this."

"Yeah yeah I'm coming!" replied Alfred before turning back to Arthur. "You gonna stay awhile or do you have to go soon?"

"I do have a meeting today so I might as well get going," told Arthur.

"Then if you have time, come back and visit us again. We might even have your stuff up for public," Alfred gave the British a hopeful look. "You'll visit us, right?"

Looking into Alfred's pleading eyes, Arthur pondered for awhile until he sighed in submission. "Of course. Though, I won't be staying in America for long. Once the meeting is done, I must fly back to England."

_Bzzz_

Both men went silent as the sudden sound of vibration.

"It's mine," Arthur confirmed as he started to shuffle around for his phone. Finally, feeling it in his pocket, he took out the communication device. When he pulled it out, something fell out of the pocket and onto the floor.

Out of reflex, Alfred picked it up to give it back to the man. But when he looked at what it was, his eyes grow wide.

It was a cream colored handkerchief with red roses embroidered into it. It looked old and almost worn out. But what taken Alfred by surprise was the brown stains that covered it. It looked faded as if it was washed several times but the stains never completely came off. It looked almost like… blood?

"Excuse me, but I would like that back," Arthur's voice broke Alfred out of his thoughts.

"Oh uh, sorry," apologized the young blond, handing back the stained cloth.

Arthur quickly snatched the handkerchief back as if afraid of losing it and put it back into his pocket.

"Is it important? It looks pretty old," asked Alfred, curious.

"Yes and it's very precious to me," Arthur said with a cold tone… was that hint of sadness? "I-I need to go now."

"Oh okay…," stared Alfred. What was up with him? His mood suddenly changed out of nowhere. "Do you want me to see you out?"

"It's fine. I can find my way out," Arthur turned him down before turning to leave.

"Okay. I'll contact you when we get your stuff up, alright? I'll even personally give you a tour, if that's okay with you," Alfred offered.

"I'll look forward to it, lad." The man walked out of the room and out of sight.

With Arthur gone, Alfred went back to work and helped his co workers. The whole time he was working, Alfred couldn't help but think about that British man. And that handkerchief… Where had he seen it before?

* * *

" _Artie!" Alfred called out when he spotted the familiar messy blond hair and red uniform talking with a sailor at the port. He seemed to be talking about something serious because his face was making that 'serious' face again. It was something that Alfred started to pick up after a week since Arthur was always appearing around town as if he was patrolling the streets or something._

_Arthur turned his head when he heard the teen's call and his expression suddenly turned from a frown to a slight surprise to a friendly smile when he saw who it was._

_It has been a couple of weeks since Alfred met the British officer name Arthur Kirkland and the man has been very nice with the teen. The first time they met, Arthur bought him lunch and chatted with him a little. The other soldiers that were with him weren't so bad. They usually talk among themselves or with Arthur, but they did make some kind of comment a few times that caused Arthur to smack them on the back of the head. Alfred didn't know what they said meant, but it seemed Arthur didn't want him to hear them so he didn't say anything and just ate his free food._

_Arthur would also ask Alfred some things, but they would usually be about Alfred like "How old are you, lad?" and "Why are you alone and where are your parents?" Of course, Alfred had to lie a little since he wasn't sure about his age and he was an orphan. He was afraid that if the adults found out, they would put him back into the orphanage again and he couldn't have that! He was on a search for his brother after all. So he told the man that his parents were working and Alfred himself was working to help the family. He also mentioned that his brother was given away to another family and he wanted to be with his brother again. Not a total lie. After hearing that, Arthur and the other men gave him a pitiful look._

_At the same time, Alfred would also ask Arthur some stuff too. Like "What's it like in England?", "Is it true that it's almost always cloudy there?", and "What is the food like?" Of course, Arthur would answer enthusiastically while the other men would give small comments themselves. All in all, Alfred find the men to be very pleasant to talk to, but for some reason, the other adults in the tavern didn't seem to agree._

_At the corner of Alfred's eyes, he could see the people in the tavern looking at the officers with distrust and cold glares. Even Arthur and the others seemed to noticed this, but acted like they didn't. Alfred could tell that they were trying to distract him so he wouldn't feel uncomfortable, but Alfred wasn't oblivious to the heavy atmosphere around them. It has been going on since they entered the tavern. The usual loud bustling tavern suddenly went quiet when they entered, which already made him confused. He knew this tavern quite well since he came here a good number of times and the people here are usually friendly. Sure they were loud and sometimes wild when drunk, but rarely was there any hostility. Especially, one as strong as this._

_The strong tension was not just in the tavern too. It seemed to be all around town and down at the ship ports. It was clear that the people didn't like the British officers, but Alfred didn't understand the reason why. He just assumed it was an adult thing and he'll eventually grow to understand it one day._

_After that little event, Alfred and Arthur have been bumping into each other a lot in town. He wasn't sure why, but it always seemed that they kept meeting each other a lot. Due to those meetings, they started to befriend each other and Alfred started to call Arthur "Artie", which the man didn't seem to like the name at first but eventually got used to it. Of course, he wouldn't let the other officers use it with him. Only Alfred was an exception. Arthur was nice enough to buy him food when he couldn't afford it and they would chat with each other while wandering around town or sitting somewhere before Arthur had to go back to work._

_Back to the docks, it was busy as usual with ships coming in and unloading their cargo and people. Alfred had to be careful to not bump into anyone while he tried to dash towards Arthur. He didn't really paid much attention with what's going on around him, only staring ahead, so he didn't notice that a large wall of wooden crates that he was running pass suddenly leaned over towards him._

" _WATCH OUT!"_

_Alfred didn't know who shouted, but he turned around just in time to see a dark shadow looming towards him._

" _ALFRED!"_

CRASH!

_Piles of crates crashed into the wooden board of the port, causing some of them to break or damaged upon impact. The floor boards were damaged and broken in many places. Of course, at that moment, nobody cared about those things. Everyone were all freaking out at the well being of the boy._

" _Alfred!" called out Arthur in horror as he ran towards the crates with a few sailors behind him. They began pushing away the crates hastily to search for the boy in panic. Other men nearby ran to join them in digging for a possibly crushed boy under all these heavy cargos._

" _Alfred! Can you hear me?" demanded Arthur while throwing another heavy box to the side._

" _Ar-Arthur…" came a low soft voice._

" _Alfred!" cried Arthur, happy to hear the boy's voice. Once he lifted up a crate that was leaning over another crate, he found the young teen lying right underneath. It seemed that Alfred was fortunate enough to be lying right between the space of the crates, so he wasn't crushed from all the weight._

" _Thank god! I thought you were completely crushed!" exclaimed Arthur, picking up the boy. "Are you alright, lad? Are you injured?"_

" _I think I'm fi… ow!" Alfred cried out and grasped his right leg._

_Looking down, Arthur found that Alfred's pants was ripped around his right knee, exposing a slightly bloody wound. The boy must've scraped it during the incident._

" _Come here, lad. Let me fix it up for you," told Arthur, lifting the boy up onto a crate. While the boy sat on the wooden container, Arthur kneeled down and rolled up Alfred's pants to examine the wound. "It's just a small scrape. Nothing broken. It'll heal."_

_Next, the British officer took out a container of water and poured over the wound to clean it up. Then he pulled out his handkerchief and wrapped it around the boy's knee. He did all this very quickly as if he has done it many times that it became a habit._

" _There! All done," announced Arthur, as he got up._

" _Thanks, Artie," thanked Alfred, looking down at the bandaged handkerchief. It was creamed colored with red rose embroidery on it. It looked plain, yet pretty at the same time._

" _Next time, you should look around before you come running like that. Especially at a place like the docks," Arthur scolded out of concern. "What if you got seriously hurt?"_

" _I'm sorry…" apologized Alfred._

_Seeing the boy's downcast look, Arthur decided he wouldn't reprimand him anymore for now. He placed his hand on the boy's head and began messing his hair, causing Alfred to squeak in shock._

" _It's all right now, Al," Arthur gave him an assuring smile. "I'm glad you weren't terribly hurt. Just don't scare me like that again."_

_The man's smile was warm and comforting. It made Alfred feel calm and safe. "Yes, sir," he nodded and gave the man a big toothy grin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave feedbacks or comments.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> See you guys next week!


	6. Chapter 5

"Zat vill be all for zee meeting today. Ve vill all meet again same time tomorrow. Meeting adjourned," announced a tall man in a German accent. His hair was blond and combed back neatly. His blue eyes were hard and intimidating, making anyone feel like they were going to get pounded when glared at. Among his kind, the personification of nations, he was Germany.

The other nations began to pack up and got up to leave as soon as the meeting ended. It had been a long meeting, but they weren't even halfway done with their discussion. When it came to these kind of meetings, there will always be constant arguments, loud yelling, objects flying across the room, and even fist fights. It would get worse when someone snuck in some alcohol and hell would break loose. Actually, hell would seem more pleasant than the stupid shit that happened in here when nations get drunk off their ass. How any of them get anything done was one of the world's greatest mystery.

England breathed out a sigh of relief that the long meeting was finally over. Fortunately, it wasn't the worse meeting they had, but it was still stressful to sit through like always. Russia was still trying to get nations to join him with his cheerful yet menacing smile. China was off trying to sell his poor quality but cheap goods with Thailand and Vietnam. Italy was bouncing happily towards Germany with Japan joining them afterwards, probably planning to go somewhere together like always. Some of the other nations had already left for the day while the rest had their own groups they talked with.

"So, England, do you 'ave anything planned for the rest of the afternoon?" France asked as he came walking towards England, who was already putting away his notes in his briefcase.

"Back to my hotel room so I can bloody rest for tomorrow's meeting," England replied with some bitterness and exhaustion in his tone.

"Are you sure you do not vant to join me for a little stroll? Maybe 'ave dinner together, no?" invited France, giving the British man a wink.

"BLOODY NO, YOU DAMN FROG!" yelled England, face flushing red with annoyance. "I'd rather dine with monkey then you! At least I won't have to worry about getting— WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TOUCHING, YOU PERVERT?!"

_Smack!_

" _Aie!_ You vound me!" accused France, rubbing his hand in pain.

"Then don't touch my arse, you pervert!"

England immediately got up and turned to get away from the perverted Frenchman, not wanting to get molested again. That bastard never seemed to understand decency or at least, knowing to keep his hands to himself!

As England turned, France caught a glimpse of something poking out of the British's pants pocket, a creamed colored cloth with brown stains on it. France frowned a little when he realized what it was.

It seemed that the British man hasn't thrown out that dirty old handkerchief. He should have know better than to hold onto the past. This was why nations like them avoid attachments with humans. It's not uncommon for nations to befriend humans or flirt with them, but they try to not be too emotionally attached to them. If not, the nations were the ones that suffer the consequence.

As a nation that was constantly at war with England in the past, France knew his rival better than anyone. He also knew the importance of that bloodstained handkerchief and the story behind it.

England really needed to let go...

* * *

"Bloody Frog! Don't know how to keep his damn perverted hands to himself!" grumbled England as he walked out the double glass door. Once he was out of the large office building, England decided to take a walk back to the hotel to get some steam off. Getting molested by the Frenchman always made him want to throw the bearded bastard into the Atlantic Ocean with his feet cemented.

Fortunately, the hotel wasn't far from the office building. It would be a nice exercise and he really needed some fresh air after being stuck in that room for so many hours. It was late in the afternoon, so school was out and children were wandering the streets, either walking home or going somewhere with their friends.

Often times, when England spotted a blond hair boy with blue eyes, the British couldn't help but be reminded of another youth he once knew. There were quite a good number of them around so it didn't take long for England to notice them. There was even one boy who seemed to be talking about something very comical because the teen would laugh loudly with a bright smile on his face as his friends laughed with him.

A surge of nostalgia and sadness swept over the British man. Without realizing it, England slipped his hand into his pocket and gently held onto his old handkerchief.

* * *

" _Arthur! Arthur!"_

_England, or Arthur, turned at the call of his name. Rushing down the streets of Boston towards him was a boy in his early adolescent age with blond hair and bright blue eye._

" _Alfred," Arthur greeted him with a gentle smile. "Are you done with your deliveries?"_

" _Uh huh," nodded the boy. "Can we sit somewhere so you can tell me about England again?"_

" _Of course," Arthur would smile broadly with pride. He knew the boy meant England as in the physical land and his citizens, but Arthur couldn't help but feel a little egotistic._ He _was_ the _nation after all._

Growl

_Both their eyes looked up in surprise and stared at the teen's stomach._

" _Why don't we find a place to eat while I tell you about it?" suggested Arthur, ruffling the boy's hair fondly._

" _Good idea," Alfred smiled eagerly._

_It was that smile that made Arthur's heart glow with warmth. He didn't know why, but since the day the boy bumped into him, something about the youth seemed to make Arthur feel attracted to him. It was like Arthur adored the boy and wanted to care for him like a little brother he never had._

_Alfred was an energetic child and a diligent newspaper boy as well. He had a bright smile and big blue eyes that reminded Arthur of the sky. When those eyes twinkled with admiration and wonder, it made Arthur feel delighted and respected._

_The more they spoke and meet each other, the fondness for the boy grew inside the British man. After a stressful meeting with his officials, worrying about the mess back in Europe, and trying to solve the growing tension between his people and the colonies, Arthur would look forward to having a nice lunch with the boy. It was a good break from all his stress filled work and frustration._

_But as the war back in Europe raged on and his majesty kept raising taxes here in America, the tension here grew worse. There has been violent revolts against tax collectors and boycotts against British goods. If the relationship between the colonists and the government didn't lighten up, it would cause trouble for Arthur and god forbid he needed anymore!_

_Arthur tried very hard to calm down the friction that was already happening, but no matter how hard he tried, it didn't get better. His time with Alfred became less and less as more work piled up. He was due to return to Europe soon so he didn't have much time left to spend with the boy. He wanted to at least leave with one small connection to this land._

_Unfortunately, fate seemed to hate him._

_On March 5th, a huge angry crowd of colonists surrounded his men in front of the Customs House. Insults, threats, stones, and snowballs were thrown at them as the hostility boiled dangerously high. Arthur tried to disperse the crowd with his authority, but the crowd would not listen. They continued to yell and flung anything they can get their hands on at him and his soldiers._

_Arthur was about to lose his patients, but he froze when he spotted a familiar boy in the crowd._

_Alfred was almost hidden among the angry mass, but Arthur was still able to make out his blond cowlick hair and big blue eyes._

_Why was he here? He shouldn't be here. The situation was getting dangerous and Arthur didn't want the boy to be anywhere near here if something happened. He wanted to shout out to the boy to get out, but before he could, things went to hell._

_Everything happened so fast and Arthur didn't have time to react. A stone hit one of his soldiers and knocked him down. After having to endure the hours of harassment and abuse, the man finally snapped. He immediately grabbed his musket and aimed into the crowd._

_Arthur tried to stop him, but it was too late._

Bang!

_Then it was chaos._

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

_Surprised by the sudden shot from one of their own, the other soldiers followed suit and fired. There were screams and cries. The smell of gunpowder burned Arthur's nose and the smoke from the weapons being fired almost covered his vision. Bodies were hit and fell onto the ground. People scattered everywhere to protect their lives from the wild bullets flying through the air._

_And one of those bullets shot right into Alfred's chest._

_Arthur watched in horror as the small body motionless fell backwards with a shocked look on his face and onto the stone hard ground. Arthur screamed and pushed through his men to get to the boy, but someone grabbed him and pulled him back. He didn't know who was holding him back, but he tried to break free and shouted at them to let go as he continued to struggle, but his voice went unheard as the cacophony of screams, yells, and gunshots shattered the air. The more he tried to pull forwards, the more force the person behind him pulled back. Then he felt another pair of hands grabbed him and Arthur was dragged back behind his men while he kicked and thrashed around in anger and despair._

_That day will soon come to be known as the_ Incident on King Street _by his people. For the colonists, it was the_ Boston Massacre _._

_After that bloody incident, Arthur was heavily guarded by his men and was sent back home the next day. They said it was for his own safety and the situation in America was going to get worse. Eleven people were shot and five died that day._

_But the whole time, Arthur could only think about the boy, who was at the wrong place at the wrong time._

* * *

France was humming one of his favorite French Baroque music as he strolled down the streets full of little shops, cafes, and restaurants. He winked and flirted with about every beautiful women or charming men that caught his eye. Of course, many of the fine ladies would blush or giggle at his compliments while most men would stare at him, not used to being flirted by another man. Though, he did managed to catch a few that seemed to like his attention and even got a wink returned by one. France made sure to memorize his face, in case he felt bored and wanted company in bed later. After flirting with a couple of beautiful young ladies, France was pondering where he should go to to kill some time when he noticed something at the corner of his eyes.

It seemed to be some kind of lover's quarrel of sort. A man seemed to be begging the girl for something, but the girl didn't seem to agree. The girl looked quite annoyed at the man as she said something in a harsh tone before turning away. The man didn't look like he was giving up and grabbed the girl by the arm to prevent her from leaving.

"Babe, please! I promise I'll do better! Just give me a chance!" begged the man.

"I said let go, Juan!" ordered the girl, trying to pull her arm away. "How many times do I have to tell you that it's fucking OVER!"

"Come on! Just listen to me, babe!" The man still didn't let go.

" _Excusez moi_ , but it seems this young lady does not vish to talk to you," France smiled politely, but his tone of voice expressed authority. "Now be a gentlemen and release her, _monsieur_."

"Mind your own business!" shouted the man, still not letting the girl go.

"Now now, I really insist that _you let go._ " Francis said with a cold tone as he grasped the man's wrist tightly and squeezed it.

The strength of the nation's grip was much stronger than a normal human's, so the man cried out in pain and immediately let go of the girl. "ARGH!"

Once the girl was free, she drew back behind the French man and massaged her arm. A pinkish hand mark started to appear on her arm where the man gripped her earlier.

The man quickly pulled his hand back to get out of the French man's painful grip, which France let go without any resistance.

"The fuck! This had nothing to do with you! It's between me and my girlfriend!" yelled the man holding onto his aching wrist.

"I ALREADY SAID WE WERE THROUGH, YOU BLOCKHEAD! I'M NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND ANYMORE!" The girl behind France retorted back furiously. "STOP FOLLOWING ME AROUND LIKE A STALKER, YOU CREEP!"

"Oh so this vas vhat vas going on," smirked France, starting to put the puzzle together. "So this pitiful fellow got dumped and could not let go."

"HEY!" The pitiful fellow cried out.

"That vould mean…" France turned to the man. "… If you do not leave this young lady alone, I vill call the police."

The man's face started to boil red and he was seething with anger at the nosy French. But not wanting to get the authorities involved, he had no choice but to back down unwillingly.

"Fuck!" he swore before he turned around and darted off.

The moment the man was gone, the girl let out a breath of relief. "Ugh, this was _so_ not my day," she whined. Then she turned to her savior with a thankful smile, "Thank you so much for saving me back there. If it wasn't for you, that jerk would probably still be pestering me about getting back together again. Which there is no way I'm gonna do."

"It is alright, _mademoiselle._ I could not stand and vatch vhile a beautiful young lady is in trouble, _non_?" France smiled.

"Oh, aren't you a charmer," the girl responded playfully. "Since you saved my hide back there, let me repay you. I work at a cafe near here, so I'll get you something for free. On the house."

"That is very kind of you," France complimented. "Not only are you beautiful as flower, but you are kind as an angel vell."

"Wow, you sure know how to flatter a lady," the girl giggled in amusement. "I'm Kristina, by the way. But you can call me, Kristy."

"I am Francis," France introduced himself with his human name. "And I 'ail from the beautiful nation called _France_."

"I figured from your accent," said Kristy. "And it would also explain your _charming_ personality."

"Ohonhonhonhon, _merci_ , madam Kristy."

After introducing each other, Kristy lead Francis to The Little Garden cafe and chatted to pass the time. It was clear that Kristy took a liking to the Frenchman's flirty personality, but Francis could tell she wasn't the serious type. All those compliments and flirty remarks that were being said were more from their carefree personality than really trying to hook up with the other person. Though, Francis wouldn't mind having some fun in bed.

_Ding!_

The chime of the bell at the door rung when they entered the cafe.

"It is a very nice and cozy place," complemented Francis. "You also sell flowers?"

"Yep, we're like a cafe and flower shop in one," explained Kristy, as she walked to the counter. "You can order whatever you want on the menu. You can check out the pastries in the glass as well. I'll be right back. Need to change into my work clothes." She pointed to the large glass case with variety of baked goods on display before she disappeared behind the 'Employees Only' door.

So while Francis waited for the girl, he looked at the menu that was displayed overhead and in the glass display, pondering what he should order.

Then a soft and almost quiet voice spoke to him from over the glass display, "Hello, would you like to order anything, eh?"

* * *

A few minutes earlier, Matthew had been looking at the clock on the wall many times, wondering when Kristy will come in. She normally came on time, but she was unusually late today.

It had been over ten minutes already and she hasn't appeared yet. She also didn't call in sick either. Matthew couldn't help but worry and wondered if something happened to her. He was about to call her when the door opened with a chime.

_Ding!_

Turning to the door, a flood of relief washed over him when he saw it was Kristy.

Oh good, she was okay.

But a second figure walked behind her and it made Matthew raise an eyebrow.

It was a man with shoulder-length blond hair and playful blue eyes. He had some facial hair around his chin and he seemed to hold himself with a confident air around him.

"It is a very nice and cozy place. You also sell flowers?" The man said with an accent. It sounded like French, but Matthew wasn't sure yet. He'll need to hear it again to be sure.

"Yep, we're like a cafe and flower shop in one. You can order whatever you want on the menu. You can check out the pastries in the glass as well. I'll be right back. Need to change into my work clothes."

Wait… She did not just come in late to work because she was playing around with a man, did she?!

Kristy walked passed the counter where Matthew has been standing and disappeared behind the back door. She didn't even notice Matthew was there, but the Canadian was used to not being notice anyways. Then Matthew turned back to examine the man a bit more. It seemed that the man was looking at the menu and the pastries in the glass display.

"Hello, would you like to order anything, eh?" Matthew asked. Even though he was a little suspicious and even curious about the man, he was still a customer.

The man looked up with a look of surprise as if he didn't realized Matthew was standing there the whole time, which was most likely the case.

"Oh! I did not see you there. 'Ave you been there the 'ole time?" asked the man with that same accent. Yep, definitely French.

"Eh… I get that a lot," Matthew replied. "Are you by any chance French?"

" _Oui_ ," confirmed the man. "Vas it my accent that gave it avay?"

"Eh," nodded Matthew. "So will you be ordering anything?"

" _Oui_ , but Kristy said she vill take care of me," told the man.

Now even more curious, Matthew asked, "What is your relationship with Kristy?" Was he her new boyfriend?

"Ohonhonhonhon, vhy do you ask? Are you interested in 'er?" The Frenchman asked, giving him a mischievous smirk.

"Wha? No! I don't think of her that way. She's just a coworker," Matthew quickly denied. Though, the Frenchman wasn't convinced. "It's just that she already has problems with her ex and I was just worried."

"Ah! You must be talking about that man that vas harassing 'er earlier," the Frenchman thought out loud in realization.

"You met Juan?!" Matthew stared at the man in shock. "He's still following her?!"

"I found both of them arguing vhile I vas taking a stroll. Vhen the man became physical, I intervened. I vas able to chase 'im away and the nice young lady vanted to repay me for saving 'er, so 'ere I am," explained Francis.

"So you helped her, eh?" concluded Matthew, starting to feel grateful for saving his friend. "Thank you so much for saving her, mister..."

"Francis," the French introduced himself. "Francis Bonnefoy."

"Matthew Williams," the Canadian did the same.

Francis... Bonnefoy? Where had he heard that name before?

"I'm back! Oh! Hey, Matthew," greeted Kristy, as she walked out of the employee's room in her work clothes and apron similar to the Canadian, except his has pants while she wore a knee-length skirt.

"Good evening, Kristy," greeted Matthew. "I heard what happened to you from Mister Bonnefoy. I really think you should call the police, eh."

"Not this again," groaned the girl. "Stop being a worry-wart. I can look after myself. Besides, I got saved by a dashing Frenchman." She batted her eyes at Francis, who in return, winked at her.

"Kristy, you don't get it." Matthew felt frustrated that she was taking this too lightly.

" _Matthieu_ , is right," agreed Francis. "If your ex boyfriend persists, it vould be vise to call the authorities."

Kristy groaned, not amused by getting lectured by two men. "Fine! How about this? If he bothers me again, I'll call the cops. Deal?"

Matthew still didn't feel assured, but with Kristy, he can only convince her so much. He wasn't good at these kind of things anyways. "Eh," was all he could reply for now.

"So made your pick yet, Francis?" asked Kristy.

" _Oui_ ," replied Francis. The man gave his order while Kristy wrote them down on a notepad. Since Matthew didn't have any other customers to serve, he decided to prepare the man's order. It was a medium size hot earl grey tea and a hot sandwich set. Basically, he can choose any sandwich from the menu with a small bowl of salad and chips. Once Kristy was done taking the order, she told Francis to wait at a table closest to the counter while they prepared his order.

Matthew went to make the tea behind the counter while Kristy went into the back, where the main kitchen was to prepare the sandwich set. It was only hot tea, so Matthew was done pretty quickly.

"Here's your medium size earl grey," said Matthew as he put down the hot drink on Francis' table.

" _Merci_ ," thanked Francis.

Just as Matthew was about to go back to the counter, Francis stopped him and asked, "If you do not mind, vhile I am vaiting for my sandvich, can you entertain me by 'aving a conversation to kill time?"

"Uh… sure," nodded Matthew, not like he had anything better to do. There were no new customers coming in or any orders to take, so he was quite free at the moment. He took a seat on the opposite side of the table so he can face the man while they talked. "So what do you want to talk about, eh?"

"Vell, for starters, 'ow old are you?" Francis asked with a mischievous grin.

"Um… N-nineteen," Matthew lied. If he were to answer honestly, the Frenchman would most likely think he was crazy. No doubt, Matthew was more than a few hundred years old. But he and Alfred went with nineteen since they thought that was the closest age for their physical appearance.

"Oh? So young and already vorking?" Francis looked amazed at the Canadian. "Do you go to college?"

"No, my brother and I couldn't afford college, so we both work to make a living instead," explained Matthew.

"You 'ave a brother? Vhat about your parents? Can they not pay for your tuition?" Francis was now curious.

"We… we don't have parents, eh," told Matthew, almost a whisper. "We're both orphans since we were little, but we make due with what we have and we've been doing pretty good on our own."

"… I see," Francis nodded in understanding and pity.

"What about you, eh? What do you do for a living? Are you from France or do you live here?" Matthew asked some questions of his own. Normally, Matthew wasn't the type to nose into other people's business, but for some reason, he felt curious and interested in the Frenchman before him. Something about the French felt… strange.

" _Oui_ , I am from France. The most beautiful nation in the vorld," Francis confirmed proudly, stretching one hand outward slightly towards the ceiling with his other hand on his chest.

Matthew couldn't help but think that the man was a little odd as he stared at his dramatic pose.

"For vhat I do, I can't say much but I can say that I vork in the government," told Francis. "I am only 'ere in America for a few days for a meeting. So once I finish, I can go back to my lovely country."

Before Matthew could think of a reply, his felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and it nearly gave him quite a jolt.

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

"Uh-sorry, I think I got a text," apologized Matthew, before grabbing his phone. Sure enough, when he check the screen, it showed that his brother had texted him.

:[Alfred: Dude! I got to go home early today! Isn't that freaking awesome? My boss wanted me to get more rest because I was still 'injured' so yeah! I'm at home right now, so see ya later!]:

"Is it something important?" wondered Francis.

"No, it's just my brother telling me he got out of work early," told Matthew.

"Oh! So how is your brother doing?" Kristy walked up to their table with a tray of food. "Here's your order, Francis."

" _Merci_ , Kristy," Francis smiled politely to her.

"He's doing fine, eh," assured Matthew. "It wasn't anything serious and he's very tough. His wound will heal pretty quickly. Since he's home early, he'll probably watch TV or take a nap."

"Your brother got 'urt?" asked Francis, looking concerned.

"Like I said, it wasn't anything serious. He just got injured while working, but he's still active and lively as always, eh," explained Matthew.

"I'm still impressed that your brother didn't break his skull from having a marble vase dropped on his head," commented Kristy.

"His skull is hard as a rock. Drop an elephant on him and he'll still be fine," joked Matthew.

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

"Eh?"

Another text? Matthew looked at the screen again. This time it wasn't a text, but a photo. What now? He opened the photo and he nearly yelled if not for his quiet voice.

"Ehhhh!?" he gapped at the screen. "What does he think he's doing with Kumajishu?!"

"What? Let me see! What did your brother do this time?" Kristy leaned over to take a look on the screen and her eyes lit up in adoration. "Awwww!"

On the screen was an image of Matthew's white stuffed bear, whose name he can't seem to remember correctly, wearing an oversized black T-shirt that said 'I EAT ZOMBIES FOR BREAKFAST' in blood red fonts and a black cap with a white skull head printed on the front. No doubt, they were Alfred's. The stuff animal was on the couch with a stack of food surrounding him with two large bowls on each of its sides. One was full of popcorns and the other was nachos with melted cheese poured all over it. An extremely large McDonald's size cup of possibly soda, that Matthew didn't even know they even had, was placed beside the nacho bowl. Lastly, a good stack of hotdogs and burgers were piled up like a pyramid besides it.

Another message was sent from his brother.

:[Alfred: I'm bored so me and your teddy bear are gonna have a zombie movie marathon right now. Look how excited he is!]:

"He better not get any butter or ketchup on Kumajiba or he's going to be sleeping in the van for a week!" Matthew said heatedly as he typed on the phone rapidly.

:[Matthew: YOU GET ONE STAIN ON HIM AND YOU ARE SLEEPING IN THE VAN!]:

" _You_ have a teddy bear? Dawwwwww! Do you sleep with it at night? How cute! I didn't know you were that type of guy, Mattikins," Kristy elbowed the Canadian on the arm teasingly.

"Oh? You like stuffed animals, _Matthieu?_ That is quite unexpectedly _adorable,_ " Francis joined in on teasing the young man. It's not everyday he finds a boy his age still sleeping with a stuffed toy after all.

"Hey, give me your phone real quick!" Kristy grabbed Matthew's phone without his permission and showing it to the Frenchman.

"EH!? Give that back, Kristy!" demanded Matthew, trying to retrieve his phone.

"Look how cute Matthew's Teddy is!" squealed Kristy, in adoration.

"Kristy! I mean it!" cried Matthew, getting embarrassed. "And it's Kumajoshi. Not Teddy."

"What? I thought it was Kumajiba… or was it Kumajishu?"

"It's Kumajubi!"

"Wait, I thought you said Kumajoshi? What the hell is it then!?"

"Just give me back my phone already!"

While the two were busy arguing and fighting over the phone, none of them took notice that Francis had a strange look on his face when he saw the photo on the phone.

"If you do not mind me asking, but vhere did you get that stuffed bear from?" He asked, almost seemingly out of nowhere.

A little surprised by such a question, Matthew stared at the French man in confusion. "I-It was given to me… a long time ago."

"Oh? By 'om?" Francis continued to ask.

"I… I don't remember. It was _really_ a long time ago, eh?" Matthew shrugged. Why was this man so interested in Kumajiji?

The man accepted that answer and stopped asking about the stuffed bear, although something was off. They switched topics with mostly Kristy and Francis talking since Matthew wasn't much of a conversationalist, but Matthew felt Francis' eyes darting at him from time to time when Kristy wasn't looking. He could've sworn that those blue eyes were carefully studying him, which made Matthew feel uncomfortable and nervous under the other's gaze.

Did the man suspect something from him? He couldn't have known anything about him, right? They only just met less than half an hour ago.

Francis left once he was done with his food, thanking Kristy for the free food. The man bid them both farewell, but before he exited the cafe, he turned back to Matthew with a look of curiosity.

"You said your last name is Villiams, _non?_ " asked Francis.

"E-eh… Matthew Williams," Matthew nodded in confirmation.

The man gave him another strange look before a smile formed on his face. Then he gave Matthew a small bow and walked out the door. The only thing Matthew could think about at that moment was why did that man had such a sad and pained smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave feedbacks or comments.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Now that we saw some history between Alfred/America and Arthur/England, we'll be going into Matthew/Canada and Francis/France next. Though, I'm still not done with the first two duo yet, but we'll see more of their history later in the story.
> 
> I had too much fun with the last scene with the Kuma-what's-his-name thing going on and Alfred being the junk-eating blackhole that his is. I agree with my friend, HOW THE HELL HAS HE NOT GOTTEN A HEART ATTACK OR OBESE WITH THE AMOUNT HE EATS!?
> 
> See ya'll next week


	7. Chapter 6

The room was dark with only light source coming from a small screen television on a coffee table in the living room. The light from the screen washed over the couch Alfred was sitting on. The young American stared intensely at the screen while throwing some popcorns into his mouth as he watched the remaining three survivors tried to sneak behind a hoard of zombies. They were tip-toeing from one car after another very carefully and quietly when the zombies weren't looking their way. Their target was the van that parked nearby and the zombies didn't noticed them yet. If they could get into the van, they could drive their way out of there. They were just about to make it, too. Alas, the stupidest cliche happened.

One of them accidentally kicked a glass bottle.

The sound of the bottle rolling over the asphalt ground caught the attention of at least a few of the undead and the survivors froze behind a vehicle. Then the zombies staggered to where the survivors were hiding, causing panic and anxiety to rise in Alfred's chest as he watched the zombies get closer and closer with every step. He was so engrossed into the movie that he hadn't even notice that his hand that was holding some popcorn had paused midway to his mouth.

They were getting closer. Too close for Alfred's liking.

Now they were right beside the car where one of the survivors was hiding. They looked around, as if trying to find a living human being to eat their brains.

Next, one of the undead staggered to the side towards the car. This was bad! Very bad! There was nowhere else to hide. Either that guy makes a mad dash and run for it before the zombies catch him or stay still and pray the zombie had terrible eyesight so it wouldn't notice him.

It staggered closer… and closer… it was now right beside him, but it hasn't seen the human yet… then it turned it's head…

"ALFRED! Give me back Kumajubi right NOW!"

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Alfred screamed at the top of his lungs and threw the bowl of popcorn into the air. He leaped off the couch and dived right under the coffee table faster than the man in the movie could fire his gun at the zombie.

"Alfred, what in God's name are you doing?" demanded Matthew, staring at his brother who was still shaking under the table like a frightened rabbit.

"Oh uh… preparing an ambush in case a zombie comes in?" Alfred replied without thinking. "When did you get home, Mattie?"

"Just now," Matthew gave him an unimpressed look. Of course, Alfred didn't hear the door being opened. Either he was too concentrated on the movie to notice anything or Matthew's invisibility powers somehow silenced the door's sound. "Now where is Kumajoshu?"

"Your teddy bear? Right there," Alfred pointed to the couch he was sitting on before. Now calmed down and realizing that he was hiding under the coffee table, Alfred crawled out and hoped that some of his ego was still intact.

Matthew looked down and sure enough, there was his bear dressed up in those ridiculous shirt and cap. He quickly picked up his bear, making sure there weren't any stains on it. Fortunately, there weren't and Matthew sighed in relief.

But when he looked at the condition of the living room, Matthew sighed in frustration. Besides the popcorns that spilled all over the floor and couch, there were several hamburger wrappers tossed on the floor, nacho pieces sprinkled on the couch, and a bottle of ketchup laid empty on the table. This was going to take some cleaning and he wasn't going to do it.

"Alfred, you better clean this up, eh," told Matthew.

"Aw! Come on, lil' bro. Can't you help me?" pleaded Alfred.

"No, you made this mess," Not to mention, took Kumajaro without his permission, "So you clean this up."

Alfred pouted, but he paused the movie and went to grab the broom from the closet.

"If you were going to watch a movie, couldn't you just leave Kumajushi out of this, eh?" complained Mathew.

"Well, it's more fun to watch with someone than alone, bro," explained his older brother.

"Are you sure it wasn't because you were too afraid to watch it alone?" Mathew questioned back.

"… Nope," Alfred denied, but he didn't look at his brother when he answered as he started to sweep the floor.

While Alfred was cleaning up his mess, Matthew started to take the cap and shirt off of his stuffed animal as he was walking to the bedroom. He didn't want to risk getting his bear dirty or worse, damaged, so he went to put it away for safety. It was very old after all and it held some precious memories from a few centuries ago with it.

* * *

_The garden behind a large old house was big and spacious. It was filled with beautiful flowers, trimmed shrubberies, and tall trees. It was almost peaceful and quiet if not for the small sniffs that came from behind some bushes._

_A small boy with wavy and slightly long blond hair was curled up in a fetal position with small tears forming around his eyes. He had been secretly crying in the garden for quite some time._

_He had dream last night. Not a bad one, but a really good dream. He dreamt that he was with his older brother. They were playing, laughing, and smiling. They were having so much fun and he was so happy. But once he woke up, the crushing feeling of reality hit him and he started to cry._

_Something like this often happened since he got separated by his brother at the orphanage. Almost every night, he would dream of being with his brother again, but then he would wake up that it was all a lie._

_He missed his brother. He missed him so much._

_He tried to hide this from his adopted parents since they have been nothing but kind to him, so he hid in the garden to cry his sadness away before he returned. Normally, nobody can find him if he didn't want to be found so his adopted parents either wait for his return or call out to him until he came out on his own._

" _Matthew," called someone from the house. "Matthew dear. We have a guest. Come back inside and greet him."_

_The startled boy quickly wiped his tears away with his sleeve. He didn't want them to find out that he had been crying again. Once he felt he had calmed down, he ran back into the house, wondering who this guest was._

_He followed the sound of people down the hallway to the front door, where he found his adopted parents talking to someone._

" _Our little Matthew should be here any second," said his adopted mother, Mrs. Williams. "He's a very sweet boy."_

" _He's also very well behaved," added his adopted father, Mr. Williams. "Couldn't have picked a better and obedient child than him."_

" ' _E sounds like an absolute angel," commented the other man. There was a distinct accent in his speech that Matthew picked up. French, he guessed. A lot of the people here spoke French and Mr. Williams was making him take French lessons, so Matthew recognized it quite quickly._

_The French stranger had a long blond hair that grew down to his shoulders and his eyes were blue. He wore a blue coat with a matching caplet, red pants, and a pair of brown boots. From the looks of his clothes, he must be some soldier of sort since Matthew had seen that uniform worn by several men in town._

_The first week when he got here, Mrs. Williams had took him to greet some of the neighbors and tour around town. It was during that time that Matthew observe his surroundings and discovered a few things about his new home. What he noticed first was many of the people here spoke French. Next was that there were many men in a blue coat and red pants uniform wandering around town. According to Mr. Williams, they were French soldiers. Although, the uniform this man wore was slightly different from what he saw before, Matthew was sure that this man had something to do with the French military._

_Why was a French military man visiting the Williams? Were they friends?_

" _He should be here any moment," told Mrs. Williams. "He always seemed to like going into the garden."_

" _I'm here," Matthew spoke softly, poking his head from behind Mrs. Williams and looking at the stranger nervously. Something about that man seemed odd to him, but he didn't know what. The man had this strange presence about him. He didn't look any older than Mr. Williams, but the way his adopted father talked to him was like he held the French man with high regard and respect._

_When Matthew spoke up, all eyes in the room fell upon the boy with surprise. None of them sense the boy coming into the room at all. Though both Mr. and Mrs. Williams knew of this strange talent of the boy from experiencing it numerous times, even they still find it hard to get used to. So for a stranger who just experienced this for the first time would be bewildered by this and wondered where the boy came from._

" _Oh! Matthew, there you are. You gave us quite a fright again. When did you come in?" asked Mrs. Williams._

" _A few moments ago," answered Matthew._

" _Francis, this is our adopted son, Matthew," Mr. Williams introduced the boy to the man before he switched to the boy. "Matthew, this is Francis Bonnefoy. He's an old friend of mine from France."_

"Bonjour _," greeted Francis, holding out his hand to the boy for a handshake._

_Matthew gazed into those blue eyes and felt something strange about them. Why did this man, who looked so much younger than Mr. Williams felt so much older? Almost… ancient._

_With reluctance, Matthew took that hand and shook it. "_ Bonjour _," he replied back in French. The boy noticed that Frenchman's grip was quite strong._

" _He'll be staying here with us for a short while until he's finished with his business here, so mind your manners and be respectful towards our guest," Mr. Williams told the boy._

" _Yes, sir," Matthew nodded to his adopted father before turning back to the Frenchman anxiously. Matthew wondered what kind of business he had here, but he didn't want to be rude and pry on their first meeting._

_After their little greeting, Mr. Williams invited Mr. Bonnefoy to his office to discuss something about 'fur trade' and 'natives' while Mrs. Williams went to prepare lunch for their guest. Matthew wanted to help so he joined her. It would at least give him something to do besides studying and thinking of his brother._

_Before the two men disappeared down down a different path down the hall, Matthew took one last look at the Frenchman. Coincidentally, the man noticed the boy's stare and gave him a friendly wink. This made Matthew blush in embarrassment from being caught staring and quickly left the room to follow his adopted mother to the kitchen._

* * *

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Who is it?" demanded a voice from behind a door.

"It is _moi_ , _Angleterre_ ," replied France, who stood in front of the said door with a wine bottle and two wine glasses in hand.

"GO AWAY, FROG FACE!" shouted England from inside his hotel room.

"I vas planning to 'ave some vine," told France. "And vas 'oping to 'ave some company to drink it vith."

Sure enough, the door opened and an irritated looking England appeared. "How do I know you won't try something funny once I get drunk off my ass? You know as well as the others that I have low tolerance to alcohol."

"You 'ave my vord. I just vant a friend to drink vith," assured France.

England was still suspicious of the French's intentions. "What's the occasion? You know we still have the meeting tomorrow. I don't think having a hangover before the meeting is a good idea."

"Am I not allowed some time vith friends? Ve do not get to spend time vith each other often due to our vork," told France.

"Since when were we friends?" glared England.

"Do you vant to drink vith me or no?" France asked again for confirmation.

England pondered whether to let the man into his room. Even though he didn't want the bastard in his room, the wine was very tempting. After weighing his decision and the wine won, England let France in.

"Tell me. Was there a reason for this occasion?" England asked this question again. He had felt something off about his fellow nation since the man didn't normally appear out of nowhere to have someone drink with him. Especially, one this sudden. When this happens, it's usually because the Frenchman wanted to talk about something.

England led the Frenchman to a small corner in his hotel room, which had two cushioned chairs and a coffee table between them. The British man sat down on one of the chairs while France placed two wine glass on the coffee table in front of him. France uncorked the wine bottle and poured it into the glasses before sitting down on the chair facing England.

"You donated some of your old possessions today, _non?_ If you don't mind me asking, but vhy to an American museum and not your own museums?" France took a sip from the glass.

"What I do with my possessions is honestly none of your business," said England, coldly. "I just thought it was time to get rid of them and I've already given many of my possessions to my museums, so I thought I'll give some to the Americans for a change. America was once my colony after all, so I should at least give them something." He mixed the wine around in his glass before taking a sip.

"Then vhy did you not give away _that_ handkerchief?" France looked at England with a questioning look.

"You already know why," England glared at him. It was no secret between them when it came to the story behind his handkerchief and France knew that it was a sensitive topic for him, so why bring it up again? "What are you trying to get?"

"Well, let's just say that something relatable happened to me today."

"Really?" This peaked England's interest. "Do you mind telling me?"

"Today, I met a young man who had in his possession an old stuffed animal I gave to a boy back when Canada was still under my rule. What was even more surprising was that the young man had the exact same name as the boy."

"So you might've met one of his descendent then?" It wasn't rare for a family to name their children after their ancestor after all.

"Quite possibly," France nodded.

"Were you… fond of that boy?" England asked, wondering if he was the same as him.

"Back then, yes," replied France. He had moved on now… or so he thought. He didn't think about the boy for so long, since nothing good will come from obsessing over a mortal. The life of a human didn't last as long as them, so it was only normal that a nation would try not to care for a specific human too much. But after what happened today and seeing that bear again, it brought back memories and feelings that he thought he had long cast away.

* * *

_When Canada was still his colony, he visited the Williams' household for work and also for personal reasons. Mr. William was an old friend of his and once worked for his government until he moved to this continent. When France heard that the Williams adopted a boy, he became curious._

_Since he had business in the American continent due to the skirmish with the Natives and his colonies, he stayed at the Williams instead of an inn to save money. The Williams had always been quite hospitable towards guests and were more than welcome to have him stay at their place._

_It was then when he met their adopted son, Matthew, whom he adored almost immediately. The little boy appeared behind Mrs. William without any of them noticing, giving France quite a surprise. The boy looked so nervous, yet so curious when he stared at France with those big violet eyes._

_Those eyes that looked so lovely, yet, seemed so sad._

_When he asked Mr. Williams later of what could be bothering the boy, the man told him that it was most likely about his brother. Matthew had a twin older brother that they weren't able to take with them since they were not sure if they could raise a second child. Due to Mrs. Williams' physical condition, she was unable to birth them their own child, so they decided to adopt instead. When they went to the orphanage, they claimed that they almost immediately fell in love with the quiet boy right away. His brother on the other hand, was loud, rowdy, and can't seem to stay still. Even they weren't sure if they could control such an energetic child._

_It almost broke Mrs. Williams heart when Matthew cried for his brother when they adopted him. A few weeks later, the boy stopped crying in front of them. He didn't want to trouble them, so he started to hide in the garden to cry. Often times in the night, the boy would wake up crying and Mrs. Williams tried to comfort him the best she could. It has lessened, but they heard him crying in the night from time to time. It was like he was trying to hide his sorrows from them to not worry them. He really was a sensitive boy, but Mr. Williams wished that the boy could toughen it up._

_One day, France was walking back from his business with some Natives when he was pondering about little Matthew. Like what the Williams had told him, France had woken up one night to the sound of sobbing. He almost thought the house was haunted when he remembered about Matthew's predicament. France wanted to go comfort the boy, but he wasn't sure how the boy would react if a stranger were to come to his room in the middle of the night. So France went back to sleep when he heard Mrs. William's voice soothing the boy._

_During the day, France would sometimes hear the boy sobbed in the garden. He would try to find him, but for some odd reason, he couldn't find the child at all. This confused France greatly. Where was the boy hiding? No wonder the two adults gave up finding him and just resort to calling him instead. It was much easier and less time consuming._

_France had been thinking a lot about the boy. He wanted to help the boy in some way. Maybe cook something for him. France was an amazing chef after all, but would a boy care for such a thing? What about a gift? Children love gifts, but then what would France give the boy? He hasn't known Matthew long enough to know what the boy likes. Maybe he can ask the Williams about this._

_As he was thinking hard on what to do, France's eyes caught sight of a store. Placed neatly on the front window were several dolls and stuffed animals like rabbits and bears. They were all made by hand and looked quite well made. That was when France got an idea and he darted into the said store._

_By the time France got back to the Williams' household, it was almost dinner time. The nation asked Mrs. Williams where little Matthew was and was told that the boy was in the garden again. France can hear sniffling, but couldn't find the child. After a few minutes, he gave up and called for the boy instead._

"Matthieu! _Can you come out? I vould like to 'ave a little chat vith you."_

_Like usual, the boy suddenly appeared from behind him like a ghost and nearly gave France a heart attack._

_"Mr. Bonnefoy?" The boy stared at him._

"Sacre bleu! _" he gasped._

_France quickly checked his coat to make sure his little surprise was secure before turning to the boy with the best innocent smile on his face._

_"_ Bonsoir, Matthieu. _I vas looking for you," he said._

_"_ Bonsoir _, Mr. Bonnefoy. Do you need me for something?" The boy asked._

_"_ Oui _," confirmed France. "I noticed you 'ave been 'aving a 'ard time so I thought of cheering you up a little. 'Ere." He pulled out a stuffed white bear that he got from the toy shop earlier and handed to Matthew. "I thought you might vant a little friend to 'elp keep you comfort vhen you are upset about anything."_

_Matthew stared the stuffed animal with wide eyes of surprise. "You're giving me this, Mr. Bonnefoy?"_

_"_ Oui _," France nodded._

_The confused look on the boy's face turned into joy at the idea of getting a gift. He took the bear from the nation and examined it curiously. Then the boy wrapped his arms around the stuffed animal in a fond hug._

_"_ Merci _, Mr. Bonnefoy," the boy gave the nation a thankful reply._

* * *

"I can't believe you used up all the ketchup we had! How much ketchup do you need for a few dozen hotdogs, eh?!" demanded Matthew, staring at the empty bottle of ketchup in his hand.

"There were hamburgers, too," reminded Alfred.

"Still! We just bought this last week!" Matthew said in bewilderment. He face palmed himself, wondering how his brother was able to use up a whole bottle of ketchup in a week. It wasn't small bottle either. "I'll have to go buy some more then."

"Tomorrow?" thought Alfred.

"No, I might as well get it tonight," Matthew said as he dumped the bottle in the trash bin for recycling. "I'll just walk to the closest store since they closed pretty late."

"Do you want me to go with you?" offered Alfred just as his younger brother was grabbing his coat.

"It's alright. I can go by myself. It's not far," Matthew assured his older brother. "I'll be back in less than twenty minutes."

"Alright, bro. Stay safe," Alfred said as he watched his younger brother leave out the front door.

The sun had already long disappeared from the sky and the stars were out twinkling in the night. The streets in the area were almost silent with only noises coming from open windows and a few cars that drove by. There were lights shining from street lamps and building windows down the streets.

The small grocery store a few blocks away so it didn't take long for Matthew to get there. He grabbed a basket upon entering and started searching for what he came for. Besides the ketchup, he might as well do some small grocery shopping while he was at it.

Browsing the sauce section for a good size bottle of ketchup that Alfred can't use up so quickly, he could make out someone's loud voice a few aisles away.

"Dis place is crap! De tomatoes 'ere aren't even fresh!" Someone complained loudly.

"Lovino, don't talk so loud," said another voice, but with a more higher pitch. "Or de owner will kick us out."

"Like 'ell if I care! De tomatoes 'ere are shit!" said the loud one again.

Talk about a rude customer. Not only was he loud, but he was disturbing other customers with that comment of his. From the sound of their accent, they were definitely foreigners.

"And why de 'ell do you 'ave to feel like making pasta in de middle of de night!" The loud one complained again.

"Because I don't 'ave time in de day because of de meeting," the other whined.

"I 'ate meetings! De are boring as fuck!"

At this point, Matthew just wants to get his ketchup and get out of here as soon as possible. He didn't want to stay too long and catch the attention of the loud one. He quickly grabbed the biggest ketchup bottle on the shelf and dropped it into the basket before walking to the cashier. But to get to the cashier, he had to walk passed the produce section. As Matthew was passing that area, he took a quick curious look at the people he heard from earlier.

There were only two people standing in that section and they seemed to be around their early twenties. These two looked almost similar to each other. Maybe they were related somehow? Brothers maybe?

Though, they still had a few features that were distinctively different from each other. One had short brown hair with one hair curled out noticeably. He couldn't tell what his eye color was since his eyes looked almost shut. Matthew would've wondered if that guy could see if not for the tomatoes he was examining closely in his hands. The other one had short dark brown hair and green eyes. This guy's skin had an olive tone, unlike the other, who had paler skin.

Just as Matthew was passing the section, one of the two young men, the one with the normal brown hair, accidentally knocked down some tomatoes and they went tumbling down onto the floored.

And a few of them happened to roll in Matthew's direction. Out of habit, he picked up the red round fruits.

"Ah! De tomatoes!" The paler of the two squeaked and went after the rolling tomatoes.

"Damn it, Feli! Look what you did! Perfectly good tomatoes ruined!" The other yelled.

Didn't he just say that the tomatoes were bad earlier?

"Here," Matthew picked up another tomato and handed to the paler brother.

The young man stared at him in surprise. Since Matthew was so close to him and the guy had his eyes wide open now, the Canadian can finally see that his eyes were amber brown.

"Oh! I didn't notice you were dere. _Grazie_ ," the young man thanked him.

"I get that a lot," Matthew replied. "You're a foreigner, eh?"

" _Si_ ," he confirmed. "My brother and I are from Italy. I'm Feliciano Vargas and my brother is Lovino Vargas."

Unlike his brother, Feliciano was more polite and seemed like a likable guy.

"I'm Matthew Williams," he introduced himself with a friendly smile. "Hope you like it here."

"I tink I got all the tomatoes," the other brother came walking up to them with half a dozen tomatoes in his arms.

"Lovino, look! I made a friend. 'E's really nice and 'is name is Matthew," Feliciano introduced the Canadian.

"Who?" Lovino stared at his brother in confusion until his eyes moved to where Matthew was standing and he nearly jumped back in shock. " _Mamma mia!_ 'Ow long were you standing dere?!"

"For awhile, eh," answered Matthew.

Lovino glared at Matthew distrustfully, which made the Canadian feel almost nervous.

"I-it's nice meeting you both," Matthew tried to smile politely. "I have to go now. My brother is waiting at home and if I don't get back soon, he might worry."

So he bid his farewell with the two Italian brothers, though Lovino seemed more reluctant to be polite about it, unlike Feliciano. Matthew quickly paid for the ketchup and exited the store as fast as he could.

As he was walking down the parking lot, Matthew couldn't help but ponder about the two Italians he just met. They were an odd bunch. He wasn't sure why, but something about them felt strange. Sure they were kind of strange, but that wasn't what he meant when he thought of them as 'odd.' It was like a vibe he was getting from them. It almost felt similar to Francis.

Suddenly, his thoughts were cut off as he heard the sound of engines roaring loudly close by… _very_ close by…

He turned at the sight of something in the corner of his eyes to see two bright lights shining right at him and coming at him fast. He heard shouting and felt something pulling him backwards forcefully, causing him to fall onto the asphalt.

_VROOM!_

A red car sped by and right over the spot that Matthew was standing just mere seconds ago. The vehicle didn't even stop and it continued to drive right onto the streets before disappearing into a corner.

"COME BACK 'ERE, YOU FUCKING ASS'OLE! YOU ALMOST FUCKING RAN SOMEONE OVER!" Someone yelled out angrily. It was Lovino. He looked furious as he was waving his fist in the air. "Fucking drivers and deir crappy driving skills!"

"Matthew, are you okay?" came another familiar voice.

Matthew turned to see it was Feliciano, who was looking at him with sheer worry.

"Did you get 'urt? Are you injured anywhere? You didn't break anyding did you? Do I need to call an ambulance?" The Italian rapidly asked in panic.

The Canadian wasn't sure what just happened since it happened so fast. It took a few moments for him to finally put the pieces together and realized that he was nearly ran over by that red car. It was thanks to Lovino who was able to pull him away in time that Matthew didn't turn into roadkill.

"Uh… I-I'm fine," replied Matthew.

"Dat's good to 'ear," Feliciano smiled in relief. "Luckily, we came out just in time."

" 'Onestly, dey could at least stop and come out to check who dey nearly ran deir fucking car over," Lovino came walking back to them with an annoyed look. He stared at Matthew as if examining before he asked, "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm okay," assured Matthew. "Thank you for saving me, uh… Mr. Vargas."

"Lovino is fine," told the young man.

"Will you be okay getting 'ome?" asked Feliciano, worriedly. "What if dere are more dangerous drivers out right now?"

"Don't worry. I'll be just fine. My place isn't far from here," Matthew had to assure them.

"Well den, please be careful, Matthew," Feliciano tried to give a friendly smile.

"Thank you. I will."

So for the second time that night, Matthew bid the Vargas brothers farewell and quickly walked home while praying that he wouldn't have anymore close calls like that again. Talk about having one hell of an eventful day. At this point, he just wants to be home as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave feedbacks or comments.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Some France and Canada BG and Matthew nearly got run over by a car. It was so not his day.
> 
> See ya'll next week!


	8. Chapter 7

When Matthew came back to the apartment that night, he didn't tell his older brother about the near hit-and-run incident at the store. He didn't want to make his brother worry too much.

Or worse, cause him to do something insane.

There were times when Alfred would get extremely furious and go nuts when someone hurt his little brother. Like that one time at the orphanage when one of the kids there bullied his little brother because he was the weaker and quieter of the twins. Alfred sent one of them flying into the chicken coop, freaking out poor chickens that they flew out and scattered everywhere. The adults spent hours trying to find and gather up those birds. Of course, the kid that Alfred threw got a concussion and a broken arm so his brother got into a lot of trouble for it.

Another time, when they first traveled to the west of America on the Oregon trail around the late 1800s, they were nearly robbed by bandits and Matthew got shot. Alfred went bat shit crazy with fury and completely annihilated the gang with only his bare fists. He did have a gun on him, but he was so mad he forgot about it. Even if he did remember, he probably wouldn't be able to shoot accurately from all that anger.

Don't get Matthew started on the Prohibition period. Ninety five percent of the bar fights that they were in was due to Alfred and almost ninety nine percent of it was due to him being drunk. And when Matthew got injured, Alfred would go insane. Some of those speakeasies were lucky if they didn't get completely destroyed by his brother in his rampage.

That was why Matthew didn't tell Alfred that he was nearly ran over by a car when he went to buy ketchup. The younger brother had a feeling that Alfred would've hunted the driver down if Matthew got hit.

Matthew didn't want to cause any trouble after just moving into this quiet town, so it was better to keep things on the down low for his and his brother's sake.

The next morning, Matthew tried to act as normal as possible. He woke up his brother before he was late for work and cooked him breakfast before leaving for his own workplace. Yep, the usual.

As the Canadian walked down the streets, he expected things to be like every other day. Yet, he felt that something was off today.

And that something was the office building that Matthew passed everyday.

Yesterday, there were people working in the front lawn and people in black suits wandering around the place. Today, there were even more people in suits walking into the building. There were people of many ethnicities from what Matthew noticed. Caucasian, Asian, South American, African, and more. It must be that rumored meeting that he heard about before. What kind of meeting would have so many kinds of people take part in anyways?

Just as Matthew passed by, he felt something or someone crashed into him from behind.

"Oof!"

"What in the…?" Matthew cried out in shock.

"Hey! Where did you come from?" cried out a slightly high pitch voice with a hint of accent.

Matthew turned around and found that it was a blond haired boy in a sailor suit. Did kids these days still wear such a uniform? The child's eyes were sea blue and his eyebrows were unusually thick. He looked like he might be ten or twelve years old from what Matthew can guess.

"I-I'm so sorry!" apologized Matthew. "You alright, eh?"

"I'm quite alright! A bump like that is nothing!" the boy replied with a cocky smile on his face. "Sorry about bumping into you. Didn't see you there."

"It's alright," assured Matthew.

"Oy! Sealand! Wait for us!" came a shout from nearby.

Suddenly, the boy jolted and his face went pale. Matthew noticed this reaction, but was more curious at the owner of that yell. He turned around to where the voice was coming from and saw a group of children and young adults running towards them.

"Honestly, you could've waited for us, Sealand," a young girl ran to the boy with an annoyed look on her face. She had brown hair tied in a ponytail on the side with a red flower scrunchie tied around it. She also had bushy eyebrows like the boy, but much smaller in comparison, and her eyes were an earthy brown.

For the others, there was a feminine looking boy around her age, but with long whitish blond hair braided on each side. His eyes were violet and there was a mole under his left eye. But what really made this boy stand out was that red beret he was wearing since Matthew didn't often see people wearing those.

Another boy around the same height as the last one had slightly ruffled red hair and blue eyes. There was also a streak of paint that ran across his face from his right cheek to his nose. Did that boy not notice the paint or he just didn't bother to wash it off?

The rest of the group seemed to be young adults.

One seemed to be a tall man with wavy light brown hair with olive green eyes and a bandage on his right cheek. His clothes also seemed peculiar, especially that cape of his. Was he going to a costume party?

The next person seemed to reminded him of someone… or two Italian brothers he met last night. Their facial features were similar, but his hair was a lighter brown. His skin complexion resembled Feliciano, but his eyes were green like Lovino. Why did this guy remind him of the Vargas brothers?

The last person was a dark brown hair man with a hairstyle that looked like a mix between a mohawk and pompadour. He wore a pair of sunglasses and his jacket was placed on his shoulders like he was trying to look badass. If Matthew were to think of one word to describe this man, then it would be "gangster-wannabe."

What an odd group of children and young adults.

"Sealand?" Matthew recalled the girl with the side-ponytail said. Was that the sailor boy's name?

"Ah! Uh… It's my… nickname! M-my friends and I like to give each other nicknames! So I'm Sealand!" The boy before him explained very quickly and… in panic?

"Sealand? What are you…?" The girl was about to say something until the boy called Sealand pointed to Matthew as if trying to tell her Matthew was there. Finally, the girl and the others spotted Matthew and jumped in surprised. "Oh, crikey!"

"Holy shit, man! Where the fuck did you come from?!" The gangster looking one shouted dramatically.

"Eh? 'Ave you been dere de whole time?" The one that reminded Matthew of the Italian brothers asked. He even had the same accent like them, so he was Italian.

Now that Matthew realized it, after hearing some of them talk, they seemed to have different accent. Sealand sounded British, the pigtail girl sounded Australian, the gangster-lookin man was definitely American, and Vargas-look alike was Italian. What a strange diverse group of people. Even their age group was diverse.

With the whole group realizing that Matthew was there, they stared at him warily. Did he do something to make them suspicious? It wasn't his fault that he had zero presence.

"Anyways, we got to get going since we have an important business to sneak in-I mean, attend to, so good day, sir," Sealand gave him a wave before dashing off towards the office building with the others following behind him.

Matthew watched as they ran up towards the front entrance of the building. A few of them looked back at him with suspicion and even concern. Why did they have to give him that look? And on another note, what was a bunch of kids doing in an office building?

"Excuse me," a hard deep tone with a very thick accent bumped him from the side.

The Canadian turned around and sure enough, a tall intimidating looking man was the one that bumped into him. He had hard blue eyes and blond hair combed backed. One look into his eyes and Matthew felt his whole body frozen in fear.

"U-uh, i-it's alright. M-my b-bad," Matthew stuttered nervously.

"Oh! Matthew! _Ciao!_ It's nice to see you again," a familiar high-pitched voice called out to him.

One of the Italian brothers, Feliciano, appeared beside them with a bright smile on his face. Was he with this big scary guy?

"M-mr. Vargas," greeted Matthew. "Good morning."

There was also another man with them, but he was Asian. His dark brown eyes and black hair was a huge give away.

"Just call me Feliciano," Feliciano told the Canadian. "Dese are my friends. Ludwig and Kiku."

" _Hajimemashite_ ," greeted the asian man. So he was Japanese then. "I am Kiku Honda."

"Ludwig Beilschmidt," said the tall scary man in his thick accent.

"You're German, eh?" asked Matthew.

" _Ja_ ," confirmed Ludwig.

Matthew thought so. He had met with germans before so he picked up on their accent quite quickly. Especially, during World War II when Matthew and Alfred were sent to Europe as fighter pilots.

"It's nice to meet you all. I'm Matthew Williams," Matthew introduced himself. "I want to thank you and your brother again for saving me last night. Thank you."

"It's no problemo, ve," Feliciano blushed and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "It was Lovino dat saved you. I didn't do anyt'ing."

"Well, I still want to thank you always for being there," Matthew smiled in gratitude. "Are you all here on business? There seems to be a lot of foreigners here today."

" _Ja_ , ve have an important meeting," replied Ludwig. "Vhich ve must go to now or ve vill be late."

Meeting? Wasn't Francis also here for a meeting or something. Are they acquaintances?

"Well, it was nice meeting you again, Feliciano," Matthew nodded towards the Italian before turning to the other two. "And it was nice meeting you two as well. I also need to go to work so I need to take my leave now."

"You work around 'ere?" asked Feliciano.

"Yeah, my workplace is a cafe not too far from here. I take this route to work everyday," told Matthew. "It'll be nice if you come and visit when you can."

"Sure! We'll visit you," Feliciano agreed enthusiastically. "So where is dis place, ve?"

Matthew gave them the address and name of the cafe before he bid them farewell to get to his workplace. Though, they were a little peculiar, they seemed nice. Yet, the same strange feeling he had with Francis and the Vargas brothers were emanating from the Japanese and German as well. The group of children and young adults also had that same feeling too. What did this all mean? Maybe he should talk to his brother about this when he gets home later today. He had never met people like these before and he hoped that it wasn't a bad thing.

But while Matthew was still pondering as he walked down the same path he always took, his instinct suddenly felt something was wrong. It was enough to break him out of his thoughts and he stopped in his tracks. Just in time for something to fall right passed his head, missing his nose by a few inches, and smashed onto the ground before him.

_CRACK!_

Matthew jumped in shock and stared at the ground. Whatever that fell had shattered to pieces, but from what he can tell from the reddish pieces of rock, it was a brick. Matthew quickly looked up to see out where it came from. There was a tall and old building right next to him. Maybe the brick broke off and fell from up there somewhere?

First, he nearly got ran over by a car and now, he almost got his head smashed by a fallen brick? What kind of bad omen was this? What a nice way to start off his day, he thought sarcastically.

* * *

"Good morning, dudes and dudettes!" Alfred greeted his colleagues as he entered the staff room. "The Jones has finally arrive!"

"Morning, Alfred," greeted Fred, who was leaning on his desk.

" _Hola_ , Al," Paul gave a friendly smile as his greeting.

"Hey, super boy," Danna also greeted him.

"So is there anything interesting today or is it the same old stuff?" asked Alfred.

"I think he mentioned something about reorganizing some of the rooms to add in the new stuff we got," answered Danna.

"So we're starting on that today? Sweet! Do you have any idea when we'll be finish and have it open to the public?" Alfred continued to ask more questions. He hoped they can finish it soon before Arthur returns to England.

"I'll give it a couple of weeks," Fred guessed. "If we do it fast, then maybe less."

"Aw! Can't we make it sooner?" whined the young American. "I want to invite Arthur when we show it to the public."

"Arthur? The guy who donated the stuff?" Danna looked around at the men for confirmation.

"Yeah, he was the British dude that donated the stuff to us and Alfred seemed to take a liking to him," Fred explained.

" _Si_ , Alfred wouldn't stop talking to the man when he was here," Paul added for confirmation.

"So can we or can we not get this done sooner?" Alfred asked again.

Fred and Paul looked at each other and pondered about the amount of work it would take to finish the job. When it came to physical work like lifting and carrying stuff, it was usually Fred, Paul, and Alfred's job. Danna was part of the customer service group, ones who work on the floor and deal with guests. Alfred also worked on the floor sometimes since he was very good with people.

They could guess that they would need to plan where to place the antiques in what area of the museum and reorganize the space to include the new additions. They already recorded what they got, so it was just a matter of where they would go. Though, that part came down to their boss's decision, so they couldn't do anything until their boss looks over the list of antiques they got and determines where they would be displayed and how.

"Depends how fast the boss can finish deciding on the organization of the stuff," told Fred, after thinking about it. "Normally, it would take a day or two. Once he's done, we can start on placing them. Originally, Paul and I would take either a week or more, depending on the size, amount, and condition of the antiques. But with you, since you work fast and can lift heavy stuff, so our work might be faster. Within a week might be possible if you don't screw around."

"A week? That's totally awesome!" cheered Alfred. "I'll make sure I work hard so we can get it in a week then. I gotta tell Arthur about this."

"But doesn't he have work?" wondered Danna. "I can understand taking a few days, but a week sounds a lot for a guy to take off of work to just come to a museum."

"Didn't you say he works for the government?" recalled Paul. "Can they even take that many vacations?"

"Don't know, but I can always ask," told Alfred. "Just need to get his phone number from our boss. He'll probably have it."

The young American was beaming with excitement at the idea of telling Arthur the exciting news. He just hoped that he could get the British man to stay in America a little longer to see his stuff displayed to the public. Just the thought of this made Alfred grin like a child that wanted to show off his hard work to an adult.

* * *

At _The_ _Little Garden_ cafe, Matthew sighed in exhaustion as Kristy patted him on the back in assurance.

"Don't worry, Matthew, your luck should get better," she tried to cheer him up. "Ever heard that after a bad luck, good luck follows?"

He had told his female coworker about the two incidents that nearly got him seriously injured. Not that it would really harm him since he could heal pretty fast, but just the idea that it nearly happened made him worry and he needed someone to talk to.

"But what if it gets worse? What if it gets my brother or anyone near me hurt too?" Matthew said worriedly.

"Everything will be alright. It's just a couple accidents, no biggie," Kristy gave him a supportive smile.

"If it's no biggie, then why are you moving away from me, eh?" Matthew gave her a betrayed look when she scooted a couple of feet away from him.

"No, I'm not," denied Kristy. "I'm just giving you personal space."

The Canadian didn't believe her, but he didn't say anything. Maybe she was right. He was probably just being overly dramatic about this. Fortunately, the rest of the morning and afternoon kept him busy with customers and taking care of the flowers that he forgot about his worries. There were a few difficult customers, but nothing that Matthew couldn't handle. Decades of working with customers from variety of jobs gave him enough experience to know how to handle them. He even had drunkards who thought they were in a stripper bar, but were actually in a _sushi_ bar.

The hours went by quickly with the large amount of customers that day that Matthew didn't pay attention to the clock. Just as Matthew was cleaning up a table, his mind pondered about Feliciano and his friends. He wondered if their meeting was over yet. Will they visit the cafe afterwards?

His question was answered ten minutes later when the familiar trio walked through the cafe door.

_Ding!_

" _Ciao_ , Matthew!" Feliciano greeted excitedly upon seeing the Canadian behind the counter.

" _Konnichiwa_ ," nodded Kiku.

" _Guten tag_ ," Ludwig did the same.

"Oh! Hello, Feliciano. Kiku and Ludwig, correct?" Matthew asked for confirmation from the two men, whom nodded. "So your meeting is over, eh? I didn't expect you to visit the cafe so soon."

"A promise is a promise and I wanted to try out de food, ve. Do you 'ave pasta?" asked the Italian, in a hopeful tone.

"Yes, we have a few on the menu," answered Matthew, handing a menu to the three men.

"Friends of yours, Matthew?" Kristy stood behind the Canadian while peeking over his shoulder at the foreigners with fascination. Then she whispered to Matthew, "Who's the blond hunk?"

"Not now, Kristy," Matthew whispered back while trying to keep a professional smile for the men before him.

"He looks so manly and tough… He can push me down and punish me anytime," the girl whispered while eyeing the German with a hungry gaze.

For God's sake! No dirty thoughts at the workplace! And wipe that saliva off your face, Kristy!

Matthew thought irritatedly while praying that none of the three men heard what Kristy whispered to him or he would dive under the counter in embarrassment.

As if the German sensed the girl's intention, his whole body seemed to shiver.

"Is something the matteru, Ludwig-san?" asked Kiku.

"It's… nozhing. Just felt cold all of a sudden," Ludwig told his Japanese companion.

Now, Matthew wanted nothing more than to shove his fellow employee into a closet and lock her in until her horniness cooled off.

Finally, after a few minutes, the three men gave their order and Matthew typed them into the cashier while Kristy went back into the kitchen to prepare the food. While the Canadian was still at the cashier, the front doorbell rang again and two men entered the cafe.

_Ding!_

" _Bonjour, Matthieu_ ," greeted a familiar French accent.

Matthew looked up on instinct and recognized one of the men right away. "Hello, Mr. Bonnefoy. Visiting again, eh?"

"No need for such formality. Just call me, Francis," told the Frenchman.

"Oh, Francis! Arthur! You come 'ere too, ve?" Feliciano called to the two men with familiarity.

"Vhy, isn't it, lil' Feli, Kiku, and Ludwig. You three found this place, too?" asked Francis.

"I met Matthew 'ere yesterday and again dis morning, so 'e told us 'ow to get 'ere," explained the Italian.

"You know each other, eh?" Matthew asked, looking at the two groups back and forth.

"Ve vork in ze same field," answered Ludwig.

"And we just finished our meeting for today, but we still have to continue tomorrow since someone thought it was a good idea to sneak a kangaroo into the meeting and waste our valuable time trying to catch it," said the fifth man, who had a distinct British accent in his tone. He seemed to look very annoyed right now and Matthew thought he heard him mumbling something about 'Australia' angrily.

"Matthew, this is my friend and colleague, Arthur Kirkland, and 'e's from England," Francis introduced the man beside him to the Canadian. "Arthur, this is the boy I vas talking about, Matthew Williams."

"Hello, Mr. Kirkland. It's nice to meet you," greeted Matthew, stretching out his hand towards the British man.

"Call me, Arthur. It's also nice to meet you, too," Arthur took the other's hand and shook it, studying the young man with a strange look.

Feeling a little nervous, Matthew asked, "Is something the matter?"

"You don't happened to have a brother who works at the museum, do you?" Arthur questioned.

"Yes, how do you know?" wondered Matthew, giving the man a surprise look.

"I was donating some of my possessions to the museum and met your brother there," explained the British man. "If you don't mind me asking, why is it that your brother's surname is 'Jones' when yours is 'Williams'? Shouldn't you two share the family name?"

"It's kind of complicated," was all Matthew said.

With so many customers at the same time, Matthew had to help Kristy in the kitchen to prepare the food while their foreign guests waited at the tables, chatting with one another. Being such a diverse group, even the other customers took notice of the strange men. A couple of teenage girls even took out their phones to take photos of the good looking men out of interest. When France noticed this, he turned around and winked at them for fun, which caused the two girls to blush and squeal excitedly.

Another table with three young men were also staring at the foreigners, but two were glaring out of jealousy because the foreigners caught the attention of all the girls in the cafe while the third stared because of his friends. Not particularly interested in the foreigners themselves, but just curious why his friends were bothered by them. Ludwig noticed the hostile glares and turned towards them suspiciously. He didn't realized he was giving them a death glare that sent chills down the jealous men's body. The third guy noticed his friends' pale faces and nearly laughed out loud, so he tried to cover his mouth with both his hands in hopes that it would lower the sound.

"So you donated to a museum 'ere, Arthur?" Italy asked curiously. "Where is it? I want to go and see!"

"It's not too far from here and it's a museum of American history, so it would mostly be American related," told England. "Not sure if you're interested in their history and we all know what their history is like."

"I'm quite fine with American history," assured Italy. "It isn't like we 'ave… a representative of dis nation to tell us de details dat goes on within it. So I don't tink it's such a bad idea to go check it out."

"I don' mindo going," agreed Japan. If his friend wanted to go, why not? It sounded more interesting than dealing with paperworks back in his hotel room.

"That sounds like fun! Ve can all go and 'ang out together," France clapped his hand together in approval. "I'm also curious if this Alfred boy looks like our little _Matthieu_ 'ere."

"They do look similar and they both wear glasses, but Alfred has blue eyes, not violet like Matthew's. Alfred's hair is also slightly shorter," explained England. "For their personality, Alfred seems more lively and loud compared to Matthew."

"Oh? Now, I'm curious to meet this boy," France grinned with interest.

_Ding!_

"MATTIE! LOOK WHO GOT OUT OF WORK EARLY! AGAIN!"

Everybody in the cafe jolted in surprise by a very loud outburst from the door and all heads turned to see who was the loud customer that came in.

"Speak of the devil," England muttered under his breath upon recognizing who it was.

It was none other than the loud American, Alfred F. Jones.

"Hey, Mattie! You in?" called Alfred walking towards the counter.

Sure enough, Matthew came walking out of the kitchen with an annoyed look.

"Stop shouting!" Matthew cried out. "You're disturbing the other customers!"

"I just wanna visit ya since it's been awhile since I came to your cafe," Alfred made an innocent face.

"Just come in like a normal customer," Matthew scolded him.

"No way! A hero has to come in with a dramatic entrance, am I right?" Alfred struck a dramatic cliche pose. One arm was stretched out to the side with his hand and pointed straight while his other hand was pulled back behind his head, but his hand was also pointed in the same direction. One of his knees was bent slightly to give a dramatic angle to his arms.

"Why do we need a hero, anyways?" retorted Matthew, turning slightly red from embarrassment as the whole room's attention was on them now.

"Why isn't it Alfred?" Kristy peaked out from the kitchen door and waved. "Hey there, Alfred."

"Heya! Kristy, right? It's been awhile," greeted Alfred.

While Alfred was waving at the girl, he didn't notice that someone had creeped up from behind him silently.

"So you're _Mathieu_ 's brother," France whispered into his ear.

"HOLY SHITBALLS!" shouted Alfred, jumping away in surprise. "Not cool, man! Not COOL! And who the fuck are you?! Going around whispering into people's ears like a creep is so not cool"

" _Bonjour_. I'm Francis Bonnefoy," France introduced himself. "I'm an acquaintance of your brother."

"What did I bloody say about creeping up on people, you cheese eating monkey?" scolded England, walking up to them from their table.

"Arthur?" Alfred stared at the British man in surprise. "What are you doing here? And you know this creepy dude?"

"Unfortunately, yes," sighed Arthur. "This 'creepy dude' is a colleague of mine."

Suddenly, Italy popped out from behind Arthur and stretched out his hand, " _Ciao!_ I'm Feliciano Vargas. I also work with Arthur. And dose two over dere are Kiku Honda and Ludwig Beilschmidt." He pointed to the other two men that were still seated at the table.

The said two men bowed their heads in acknowledgement at the young American.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones, but you can just call me Alfred. I work in the museum where Arthur here donated to." He shook the Italian's hand. "Are you guys like… all foreigners and everything?" wondered Alfred, noticing the accent and foreign names.

" _Si_ ," nodded the cheery Italian.

"You guys are a diverse bunch. It's like an ABC soup of nationalities," thought the American. "So all you guys work in your guys' government, huh? You guys have the same jobs or something?"

"Al! Don't pry into their business. It's rude," scolded Matthew.

"Sorry. Just curious," apologized Alfred.

"It's quite alright. I can't say much due to our positions, but I can say that we do work in the same field," confirmed Arthur.

"Ooooo! Mysterious, I like," Kristy appeared beside Matthew. "Mattie, foods ready for their table."

"Okay," Matthew nodded at her before turning to his brother. "Go sit somewhere and don't disturb the customers. I need to get back to work." Then he walked into the kitchen to help Kristy get the orders.

"Okie dokie," Alfred gave a playful salute.

"If you don't mind, you can sit with us," offered Feliciano.

"Sure! That'll be awesome," Alfred accepted the invitation happily so he went to sit with the foreigners at their table.

"Oh yeah! Arthur! Guess what?" Alfred grinned excitedly. "According to Fred, we should be able to have your stuff up for public by next week, so do you have time to stay in the country a little longer and check it out? I'll even be your personal tour guide!"

"So soon?" Arthur gave him a slight surprise look.

"Oh! Dat's perfect! We were just talking about going to your museum," cheered Feliciano. "After our meeting is done, I can ask my boss for a short vacation so I can visit it. What about you guys?" He turned to his friends. "Are you gonna go too?"

" _Hai_ ," answered Kiku. "My superiorus wouldn' mindo."

"Same," agreed Ludwig.

"Sounds fun, so I'll go too," joined Francis.

"It was my belongings so it's only natural I want to see how you display them," Arthur replied. "I'll give my boss a call about this arrangement."

"Sweet!" Alfred cheered excitedly. "I'll make sure we get it all up and finish as soon as possible. If you don't mind, but can I have your guys' number so I can call you guys when it's done? I was gonna ask my boss for your number, but I completely forgot about it."

Upon hearing this, all nations looked at one another as if asking whether they should give their contact to a random human or not. For nations, they normally had at least a couple of phone numbers on them. One was for important business related contacts while the others were for everyday uses. Some nations were paranoid so they tend to have more than just a few. Of course, after a certain amount of time, they would have to discard the old numbers and get new ones, except for that one important number that was used between government officials and nations. But that didn't mean they would give out their numbers easily.

"Uh guys?" Alfred gave them a confused look, wondering why there was a strange silent atmosphere at the table all of a sudden. "Is there a problem?"

"Oh of course not!" The Italian quickly denied it. He took out a pen and wrote his number on a napkin before handing it to the American. "Here."

Seeing that one of them had already given out their number, the others began to follow suit. One by one, they started to hand out their phone numbers to the young American as well. Once Alfred finished gathering their numbers, his brother and Kristy came out with their food.

For the next few hours, they spent their time in the cafe, having conversations and enjoying themselves. Even Matthew would get dragged in by his older brother when he was free. Kristy on the other hand would butt in whenever she pleased. Both Alfred and Feliciano were chatterboxes and talked a lot with each other. The Italian took such a liking to the American that he even invited him to visit his country. There were also a few times that Francis tried to make a move on the boy and Arthur had to give the Frenchman a good smack to stop his sexual harassments. Unfortunately, the American was already scooting away from the Frenchman after having his thigh rubbed out of nowhere and started to ask Kiku about robots and Japanese games. It seemed that Alfred had a special gift with befriending every nation at the table. Maybe not so much with Ludwig since the man was a bit harder to talk to. It didn't help that Alfred still had lingering trauma from World War II, but the American at least didn't have any hostility towards the German. It was decades ago, so why blame someone who wasn't even alive during the war, right? All in all, Alfred had a great time with the foreigners and was looking forward to giving his tour in the coming future. He would make sure that it would be a blast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave feedbacks or comments.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> I found another Hetalia fanfic about what if America and Canada was not found by the European nations. It's called Unnatural by GenericUsername01. Unfortunately, it's still incomplete, but I definitely find it enjoyable because the story has Al and Mattie go through history together. But be warned, it's rated M for death, violence, cannibalism(Donner party, enough said), and such. It can get pretty dark.


	9. Chapter 8

_A pair of violet eyes stared calmly out the window, admiring the clear view of the city before him. It was such a lovely day. The sun was shining brightly and the clouds looked soft and fluffy as ever. He was in a good mood. This city called Berlin was his…_

_Or at least half of it._

_But it won't be like this for long. There was that annoying pesky wall that divided Berlin into two cities: East Berlin and West Berlin. The East side belonged to him, Soviet Union or also known as Russia. The west belonged to England, France, and the Americans. Even though they didn't have their own representative of their nation, they had been just as arrogant and annoying as those European nations, but it won't be long until he squeezed them out of the other half of Berlin. He made sure to cut off all routes to West Berlin so those nations wouldn't be able to send their supplies to that city. Once those humans realize their doom, they'll come and join him. Making all of Berlin his._

_Russia was smiling to himself at his brilliant scheme. Just as he was mentally complimenting himself, the sound of rapid knocking came from the double doors behind him._

Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!

_"Sir! Dhere is urgent news!" A panicked voice came from outside the room._

_"You may enter," Russia allowed the man entry without taking his eyes from the view outside. "Vhat is it?"_

_"It's de Allied forces sir! Dhey are sending aircrafts to Vest Berlin!" A man in a Soviet Union uniform announced upon entering the room._

_"VHAT!?" Russia turned around towards the man and exclaimed in surprise._

_Before the man could say anything else, there was a loud roar of engines from outside. Russia turned back to the window and looked towards the sky. Sure enough, several planes flew overhead towards West Berlin._

_"Damn dose nations!" cursed Russia. He grabbed a pair of binoculars from a cabinet and looked towards the area where the planes were landing, in time to see the doors of one of the planes opened up and several men in light brown uniforms jumped out._

_A man with the excitement of a curious child caught his eyes. Russia couldn't get a clear look of his face, but he could make out blond golden hair. As Russia observed the blonde, the man turned to look in the direction of East Berlin. Then the man took a deep breath and…_

_"FUCK YOU, COMMIE! TRY STOPPING US NOW!"_

_Russia almost dropped his binoculars._

_The man's voice was so loud that even Russia could hear it echoing from where he stood. Russia was bewildered by how strong that man's lungs were and even more for his vocal cords. Did he implanted a speaker in his throat? If it wasn't for those offending words, Russia would've been amused._

_Through his binoculars, one of the men with the blond gave him a hard slap behind the head. Another face palmed, three others laughed, and the rest stared if they weren't unloading cargo._

_How dare an insignificant human challenged him! Him! Soviet Union!_

_Obviously, the man wouldn't know of Russia's, the personification of the nation, existence, but that didn't mean he didn't feel insulted. If only Russia was on the other side of the wall, he would've ripped the man's vocal cords right out of his puny throat and burn it right in front of his eyes._

_Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol_

_A creepy and ominous laugh started to emanate from the nation, causing the soldier to back away from him in fear._

* * *

After three days of listening to dull reports from each nation, with some amusing arguments and entertaining fist fights on the side, the International meeting of Nations had finally ended. Nations were already clearing out and leaving the meeting room. They were planning to fly back home as soon as possible. Some stayed behind to talk among their allies, whether for business or personal reasons.

One nation sighed as he put away his notes into his briefcase, disappointed that the meeting was over. He was a tall blond haired man with violet eyes with an innocent and kind smile, but… to anyone who knew this nation, he was anything but that.

Russia loved chaos and conflict among nations often from the brawls erupting from the meetings. Fists thrown into faces, furniture used as weapons, and shouts of profanity in more than a dozen languages. Yesterday, Australia let loose a kangaroo by accident. Watching the nations try to catch an energetic marsupial while others fled in panic was like watching those internet videos.

Maybe Japan might've recorded it since that island nation always had his camera on him. He was known for pulling out his camera in a flash and recorded anything he deemed interesting. Russia even saw him taking pictures of a stray cat that was cleaning itself in several different angles in a span of two seconds.

The Russian looked around, trying to find said nation and spotted him with his usual group of friends, Italy and Germany. They seemed to be talking about something fun because the bubbly Italian was almost bouncing on his toes with excitement.

"It's going to so exciting, ve! Do you t'ink d'ey would mention me somewhere in d'eir 'istory?" Italy asked.

"Most rikely you wouldu be mention in the Worldu Warsu since it's more recent," answered Japan.

" _Zdravstvujtye_ , vhat are you dhree talking about? It looks like an interesting conversations," Russia appeared beside them without them noticing.

Italy squeaked and jumped in surprise. Japan still kept his emotionless expression, but his eyebrows did rise slightly. Germany gave the Russian a wary glare, but the German nation tended to glare a lot at just about anything so it could be just his face.

"Uh— _Ciao_ , Russia. We were just talking about 'anging out toged'er, t'at's all," explained Italy, nervously.

"Talking about vhat, may I ask?" Russia questioned.

"We were talking about going to a museum together next week," answered Japan.

"A museum?" Russia was a little surprised by this. "An American museum? Vhy vould you be interested in such a place? It's nodhing but Americans boasting about dheir own history."

"Ve vere invited," answered Germany. "England just so happened to donate to a museum here. Yesterday, one of ze employees invited England and France to visit das museum vhen das items are displayed and ve happened to meet zhem by chance so he invited us as vell."

"So it vas an invitation and England and France are going too," Russia registered to himself. This sounded interesting. Normally, Russia wouldn't even care about anything American since it wasn't like he was on good terms with this country's government. Unfortunately, this country didn't have its own personification or Russia would probably had fun messing with them like how he loved messing with the other nations. "So are you planning to go today?"

"No, most rikely next week," Japan told the Russian. "They're still have not finish with setting up England's items."

"I see," The Russian nodded in understanding. The museum trip would be next week. That meant these five nations were going to stay in the country for awhile, which also meant he could have an extended vacation. His superiors wouldn't mind if he took some days off anyways. "So vhat are your plans for dhis afternoon dhen? Since ve are done vith dhe meeting, ve have time to spend togedher, yes?"

"I wasu already asked to have a family dinner with China," replied Japan.

"My brother vants to go drinking," answered Germany.

"S-Spain invited Romano and I for dinner t-t'is evening," Italy stuttered.

"Dhat's too bad," Russia sighed sadly, but it was quickly replaced with an innocent smile. "Maybe next time like dhat museum. You vouldn't mind me joining, yes?"

All three nation shivered when the Russian sent out a cold threatening aura that said 'If you deny me, very bad things will happen.'

Italy quickly shook his head for dear life in fear, "Of course, not! You can definitely come. Alfred probably won't mind."

"Alfred?" This immediately caught Russia's attention.

"E's de man d'at works at de m-museum and de one d'at invited us," explain Italy. "E's a really nice guy and very friendly. We talked a lot, but mostly about food. I told 'im d'at if 'e wants to eat real good pasta and pizza, 'e should visit my 'ome."

Alfred, huh? To be able to convince five nations, some of them being quite stubborn, to go to a museum full of nothing but stupid American history must be a convincing human.

"Vhat's his last name?" Russia asked.

"J-Jones… Alfred F. Jones…"

He would like to meet this Alfred F. Jones.

"And vhere is dhis museum at, may I ask?"

* * *

"These books here will be put in the museum library's special archive," The museum's curator pointed to a box full of old books before pointing to another box that had an antique lamp and radio. "Those will go into the World War exhibition."

"One or two, boss?" Alfred asked for clarification on which World War his superior was indicating.

"Two," clarified the curator. "Make sure to be careful with those. They're fragile."

"On it, sir," Alfred saluted to his boss before he picked up the two boxes with ease and jogged out the storage room to his destinations. First, the library because it was closer. Next, was the World War II room, which was located in the east wing of the museum.

After his boss looked through the items to separate them into groups on which period of history they came from, he told Alfred and the other two workers to bring them to their designated areas. Some can just be added onto the shelves and cases, but there were others that had special placement due to either their size or fragile condition or both.

The young American was humming the Spiderman theme song as he went down the hall. Almost skipping with every step he took. Alfred was in a very good mood today. No, scratch that. He was in an AMAZING mood!

First, he was NOT late for work and was actually on time. Quite a rare occasion for him, but he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Second, because he wasn't late today, he got complimented by his boss, which was like rarer than rare! And the third and last reason he was in such a great mood was that today was—wait for that dramatic pause… BARBECUE ANGUS BEEF CHEESEBURGER DAY!

A high quality Angus beef grind into a beautifully shaped patty and seasoned with the right spices before cooking to its smoky and juicy perfection! Topped it with the mildly sweet and nutlike taste of melted swiss cheese and some tenderly cooked mushrooms seasoned with garlic and soy sauce. Not to forget those freshly cut veggies like lettuce, tomatoes, and onions to balance out the strong taste of the burger. To finish everything off, a sprinkle of good old classic steak sauce! Such godlike masterpiece was on the menu only once every two weeks and Alfred had been looking forward to such a day with eagerness.

Today was one hell of an AWESOME day and NOTHING can ruin his bright mood!

After he dropped off the books at the library, he headed east to the World War II exhibit. Before he was turning a corner, he heard two people talking nearby.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but we don't give out personal information of our workers," reasoned one of the people that was talking. That sounded like Dana was in distress.

"Dhen can I meet him? I heard so much about him from my friends so I really vant to meet dhis man," said another voice, which Alfred didn't recognize. There was an accent in the way that person talked. Alfred was quite sure that it was Russian.

Curious about what was going on and a little worried for his female colleague, Alfred went to check it out. He walked to where the Guest Service desk was and sure enough, Dana was talking with a tall blond hair man.

"I must apologize again, sir," Dana sounded nervous when she said that, "but he's currently busy with something right now and he won't be able to…"

"Dana, do you need help?" Alfred studied Dana's face and noticed that she seemed to be not just nervous, but almost pale. Why was she troubled? She was always good with handling guests so why was she acting like this? Alfred turned to the Russian guest and studied him with suspicion.

The stranger was taller than Alfred and that didn't sit well with the American. He wore a long tan coat, tall leather boots, black gloves, and a pink scarf wrapped around his neck. Wasn't it hot wearing all that stuff in this weather? It wasn't a hot day, but even Alfred felt a little sweaty from looking at the man. The man had this innocent child-like smile on his face, yet… why did it make Alfred feel uneasy? He could've sworn that under that angelic smile, there was something very not angelic about him and his instinct was telling him to be careful around this man.

"Oh! Uh—Al! A-aren't you busy right now?" Dana asked with concern, like she didn't want him here.

"I was heading to the East hall to the World War Two room right now when I heard you guys," Alfred lifted the box under his arm slightly to make his point.

"So you're dhe Alfred my friends vere talking about," The Russian spoke as he stared at Alfred with this innocent yet creepy look.

"Huh? How did you…"

"It's on your name tag," the other man cut him off to point at Alfred's chest.

Alfred blinked in obliviousness and looked down. Sure enough, the young American forgot about his name tag pinned to his shirt. He was so used to having it on his uniform the whole time that he forgot it was there.

"Yeah, I'm Alfred. Do you have business with me?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, I heard from my friends about dhis museum and vas curious. I vas also told dhat you personally invited dhem to come next veek and I too vould like to be notified vhen such event vill take place," the Russian explained.

He was one of Arthur's friends, huh? He didn't remember the British ever mentioning he had a Russian friend. Well, it wasn't like Alfred was close enough to the man to know his whole life and who all his friends were. They only met twice afterall.

"So who did you hear about this from?" Alfred asked to make sure.

"From my Italian friend, Feliciano Vargas. You know him, yes?"

"Feliciano? Yeah, I know him," Alfred nodded in confirmation. So this man knew the Italian dude, but this still didn't make the uneasiness go away. "Not to be rude, but who are you? You already know my name, but I don't even know yours."

"Oh! My apologies. My name is Ivan Braginsky and I'm from Russia," the foreigner introduced himself.

Of course, he was another foreigner. Alfred swore he had been meeting a lot more non-American dudes lately.

"You work in the same field as them?"

"Yes, ve are both friends and colleagues," replied Ivan.

"And your purpose here is you want to be invited on the same day I give them a grand tour?" Alfred asked to make sure also.

"Yes," nodded Ivan. "You ask so many questions, Mr. Jones. You vill let me join dhis tour, yes?"

Alfred gave a quick look at Dana, who nodded quickly for him to just agree to the Russian's request, before he turned to Ivan again. Out of nowhere, he felt a strange oppressing feeling emanating from the man. Even though the Russian had a kind smile, Alfred swore he felt a 'deny me and I will make you feel fear you never felt before' aura coming from the man.

He really didn't like this Braginsky guy and he didn't trust him either. Besides, how could Alfred be sure that this Russian wasn't a spy or assassin and faking his identity to get close to Arthur and the others, who were government officials? Or worse, planning to assassinate them during his tour!

No, this had nothing to do with him watching too many spy movies and shows. It was a rational theory!

"You have not answered me, Mr. Jones," told Ivan. "Does all American have such incompetent service or is it just dhis museum."

What?!

"I really don't know vhy dhey are so interested in dhis museum. It's just like any other American museums vith Americans talking about dheir stupid history like dhey are better dhan everybody else," Ivan continued to complain right in front of Alfred and Dana as if they weren't even there.

Was he insulting us Americans? Insulting the very museum he was trying to ask for a tour with two employees in front of him?!

"Not to mention, it had to be a tiny and insignificant museum such as dhis dhat dhey seemed to be so interested in. My country has much better and bigger museum yet dhey never showed any fancy to dhem. I can't fathom vhy Arthur and dhe others vould vant to come in dh…"

"Okay! Hold on, bud!" Alfred immediately cut him off, his anger rising dangerously high. "If you don't like American museums then I believe this place isn't for you and you should just leave and go back to your crappy museums in Russia!"

"ALFRED!" Dana gasped in shock. "You can't say that…"

"You dhink I vant to come here because I vant to see Americans boasting about dheir vars and childish squabble vith each other? I vas only interested because dhe others vere and dhought dhis place might have something interesting. But I'm clearly disappointed," commented Ivan.

"Oh like your Russian history is so great and amazing! Massacring your own royal family and people. At least, America wasn't so blood thirsty and crazy to want to wipe out ours. We only wanted our independence and freedom! Not the death of the royal family!"

"As if your history has never shed blood of your own people. You dhink your country is so clean? How ignorant of you."

"We have our flaws and bloody battles but we learn and grow from them. And we grow fast! Now we're a superpower country in a span of three centuries!"

"Have you forgotten? Russia is also a superpower too," reminded Ivan. There was a strange ominous 'kolkolkolkol' sound emanating from him for some reason. "Don't underestimate Russia, pitiful American boy."

"Not since the end of the Cold War! Now we're stronger and we can probably beat your country to a pulp!" Alfred was not backing down.

"As if you can beat mother Russia. You probably can't even beat me if I vere to use one hand."

"I have taken on a bear so I can definitely take you on, communist bastard!" challenged Alfred.

"Alfred!" cried Dana, both horrified at his rude outburst towards a guest and worried for her colleague when the 'kolkolkolkolkol' sound was getting louder, sending chills down her whole body. "Stop arguing with the guest and just agree to his demands. The boss isn't going to let it slide if he hears that you cu-used inappropriate words."

"Yes, Mr. Jones, just do vhat I say like vhat dhis smart lady said," Ivan said mockingly.

"Oh hell no! He just insulted us! Like hell I'll agree to this bastard's demand!" argued Alfred.

"Dhis is most interesting. Rarely has anyone stood up to me like you do," complimented Ivan, "But none has ever gone back unscathed."

"Are you threatening me!?"

"Vhat if I am?"

Before Alfred can argue again, he felt an immense sting on his arm and nearly squealed in pain.

"What was that for?" Alfred turned to the culprit that just assaulted him, which turned out that Dana was the one that pinched him hard to get his attention.

"Calm down or I will call the boss," warned Dana. "This is getting seriously out of hand."

"Hmph! Fine!" Then the young American turned to Ivan, "But I'm not just gonna agree so easily. Since you think you're so strong, how about an arm wrestling match?"

"Arm wrestling?" Ivan stared at him with slight surprise.

"Yeah, beat me and I'll agree to let you join Arthur's tour group," explained Alfred, "But if I win, I don't give you the tour and you have to leave this museum without making any more trouble. Deal?"

"Dhis should not be so hard. Alright, it's a deal."

* * *

There were few things in this world amused Russia. One was watching his enemies groveling at his feet in fear. Two was chaos and fights among nations. And three, watching foolish humans struggle to triumph over him and getting brutally beaten instead. Humans had always been foolish since the beginning of history.

This ignorant young American was no different.

Though watching the American argue with him with immature and childish retorts was amusing and annoying at the same time, he couldn't help but find this boy fascinating. He didn't back down when Russia sent out his killing aura. Any normal human would cower in fear, but this boy didn't. He stood his ground and fought against him.

How interesting…

Russia didn't hate stubborn and strong willed people. Actually, he liked them. Why? Because the feeling of breaking their will and shattering their pride gave Russia huge enjoyment. It was so satisfying to watch his victims slowly succumb to despair and regret when they realized how foolish they were to stand up against him.

When Russia was arguing with the American, he already expected a ridiculous challenge from the boy. But arm wrestling? Russia could have laughed out loud at the choice of duel that the American challenged him to. When it came to strength, Russia was confident he will win. He had years of history to prove it.

Alfred placed his elbow on the table of the service counter with his hand raised. Russia did the same, but grasped the American's hand, calmly. There was no way that Russia could lose to a mere mortal. Even among nations, Russia was considered one of the strongest if not _the_ strongest.

The woman, Dana, looked like she was going to have an anxiety attack.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Al," she whispered to her coworker, but the young American ignored her.

"On the count of three, got it?" Alfred gave the Russian a cocky smile.

" _Da_ ," Ivan confirmed.

"Okay, one… two… THREE!"

Ivan watched in enjoyment as Alfred tried to force his hand to go down, but failing. It took three seconds for the young American's face to change from a cocky smile to a confused frown. Looks like he realized that Ivan was not someone as weak as he thought.

Ivan gave the American a smirk, which caused the boy to look offended. Dana was watching them back and forth with worry.

Now, Ivan felt more strength coming from Alfred. Oh? So he didn't give his all? Ivan was now wondering how strong this American was.

With every second that passed, Ivan could feel Alfred putting more strength into his arm. At first, Ivan was perplexed to find a human this strong. But as time went by, the power this human was demonstrating started to surprise him.

Can a human have this much strength?

Their arms were shaking and Russia was losing his smile. How was this possible? Was he actually having a hard time with this insignificant and immature human at arm wrestling? Russia started to put more strength to keep his arm from being pushed back. Their arms were shaking even more and both men started to look serious.

Dana watched the two men glared down at their arms and tried to push each other's arms back. Though, she was still worried about the situation, even she couldn't help but watch the match excitedly. She had never met anyone who was as strong as Alfred so this was a surprise for her.

Time ticked by and their arms were shaking harder…

A few seconds later… their hands were sweating now…

Another few seconds, both men didn't look like they were backing down…

Two seconds… Ivan's arm started to get pushed back.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?"

A loud roar shattered their concentration and they all jolted in shock, including Dana. All Three turned to where the shout came from and two out of three faces went pale as a ghost.

"Boss!" Alfred cried in shock when he saw his superior.

"Alfred! What do you think you are doing? Are you arm wrestling with a guest?!" demanded the man.

"I-I was just…"

"No excuses! Meet me in my office. I'll talk with you later," the curator ordered Alfred, who turned and left with a pout, before turning to Ivan. "I am very sorry for my employee's inappropriate behavior. He doesn't normally act like this. I hope you can forgive him."

The curator continued to apologize and offer compensation to the Russian, but Ivan was too busy staring after Alfred, who stomped away and disappeared behind a corner, and back at his hand with confusion to hear what the man was saying. Ivan was deep in thought.

Who was Alfred F. Jones?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Writing Russia was the hard part of this story, but I kinda wanted to have a Russia and Alfred interaction. He is kind of an important character in the Hetalia series afterall. Trying to get into the mind of someone who loves to torture people while keeping an innocent smile was not easy.
> 
> If you're wondering why Alfred seemed weak at the beginning of the arm wrestling match, it was because I had Al use only a certain amount of strength to beat a 'normal' human, not a nation. It's commonly known that Russia is just as strong as Alfred when it came to strength, so the amount of force that Al was using at first wouldn't beat him. Al, being the competitive nation he was, didn't think that something was off but rather he didn't want to lose and began to use more strength as time goes by. He didn't want to use his full strength immediately, but slowly release it until he beats his opponent. That way, a normal person would believe that he just happened to be beaten by someone who was a bit stronger and not "Oh shit! He's Superman!"


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text messages :[text]:  
> Phone dialogues [text]

Matthew was still in the middle of his shift when he felt a vibration from his pants pocket. He could tell from the type of vibration it was a text message. Alfred was probably texting him nonsense as usual. He'll just check it later.

At first, Matthew ignored his phone, but it was after the tenth vibration that Matthew was starting to get curious. Normally, his older brother would send a few texts of his silly deeds at work, but never this many. Matthew wanted to check if his brother was okay, so he asked Kristy to take over the counter before walking into the kitchen for some privacy. When he looked at his phone, Matthew's eyes grew wide in surprise. There were more than a dozen text messages and they were all from his brother.

:[MATTIE! IT WAS TERRIBLE!]:

Huh?

:[I GOT YELLED AT BY MY BOSS AND IT WASN'T EVEN MY FAULT!]:

Oh, he got in Al.

:[TODAY WAS BBQ ANGUS BURGER DAY AND A STUPID RUSSIAN RUINED IT!]:

:[BBQ ANGUS BURGER MATTIE! BBQ ANGUS!]:

:[DAMN STUPID RUSSIAN!]:

:[HE WAS SO FUCKING CREEPY TOO]:

:[EVEN DANNA WAS SCARED OF HIM]:

:[HE KEPT THREATENING ME AND INSULTING ME]:

:[BASTARD COMMIE]:

:[HE SHOULD GO SUCK A GOAT'S DICK]:

:[HE WAS A MONSTER BUT I WASN'T SCARED AT ALL]:

:[I WANTED TO PUNCH THE SHIT OUT OF HIM SO BAD]:

As Matthew scrolled down, he would find more cussing and angry texts, something about beating this 'Russian' next time Alfred saw him and Matthew prayed that his brother wasn't planning to beat up this man again. His brother's language got more 'colorful' and passionate as Matthew read on. Even at this point, his phone was still vibrating from new messages Alfred was sending.

Concerned, the Canadian called his brother.

_Beep… Click!_

[MATTIE! HOLY SHIT I'M SO FUCKING PISSED RIGHT NOW!]

Alfred shouted furiously into the phone, causing Matthew to pull his phone away from his poor damaged eardrums.

"You don't say, eh?" Mattie responded sarcastically while keeping the phone three inches away from him.

[A STUPID COMMIE CAME TO THE MUSEUM AND HE WAS THREATENING ME AND INSULTING ME LIKE HE HAD A PERSONAL GRUDGE! HE EVEN INSULT THE MUSEUM AND SAID THAT HIS STUPID RUSSIAN MUSEUM ARE BETTER! IF HE DIDN'T LIKE AMERICAN MUSEUM THEN WHY THE FUCK WAS HE THERE?!…]

"Al, calm down. You just encountered a bad guest. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly," advised Matthew.

Over the phone, he could hear his brother taking a huge breath and blowing it out loudly.

"Have you calmed down yet? Do you need to count to ten, too?"

[I'm… I'm good. I'm still pissed though.] Alfred grumbled.

"I know." Matthew knew Al's temper well. "I know you want to vent right now, but I have work. How about this? After work, we can eat out for dinner. Your choice. Then you can vent to me as much as you want. Sound good, eh?"

[Yeah… Alright… Maybe I should stay away from other people today. I feel like I might blow up if someone looks at me strange.]

"Do that and stay away from any historical artifacts and antiques. You might break them," Matthew added. When Alfred was mad, he had a hard time controlling his strength and tend to break stuff within arm's length.

[Alright, mother hen. I'll stay out of trouble. I'll make sure to keep my ears clean and shirt tucked in too.] Alfred joked. There was a soft chuckle at the end, which meant that Al's mood was getting better.

"Now get to work, young man, or no desserts after dinner for you," Matthew played along and snorted at his bad attempt to make a 'mother's voice.'

There was a loud choking sound from the phone. Most likely, Alfred was trying to hold his laughter.

[Not the dessert! Anything but THAT!] Alfred cried in feigned horror. [Hey, Mattie… Thanks man. You're a great bro to have."

"Always happy to help. Hope the rest of the day goes well for you."

They bid each other farewells and Matthew hung up his phone. He hoped that nothing else will go bad for his brother and wondered what Al will pick for dinner. He prayed it wasn't another burger or pizza place again. If not his brother, then Matthew was going to be the one to get health problems.

* * *

By the time Matthew was done with work, Alfred was already waiting for him in front of the cafe.

"You're here early," stated Matthew.

"Yeeeaaahhh… about that…," Alfred looked away nervously.

Matthew knew that look.

"Al, what happened?" Matthew demanded in a calm yet accusing tone.

Alfred didn't look like he wanted to tell him, but after a good half a minute of Matthew staring at him in awkward silence, Alfred caved in.

"I got… suspended from work…," grumbled Alfred, guiltily.

"… You wHAT!?" Matthew cried in shock.

"… For five days…"

"What did you do!?… Does this have anything to do with what happened earlier?"

"Uh huh," confirmed Alfred. "Can we start walking? I already picked a place, so I'll tell you on the way, okay?"

Matthew stared at his brother in disapproval before he gave an exhausting sigh. He swore that his older brother was going to give him an ulcer from all the stress he had put Matthew through.

As the two brothers were walking down the streets, Alfred told Matthew about his incident with the Russian. He recounted how he came upon Danna's predicament with dealing with the creepy foreigner to how he ended up challenging the man to an arm wrestling match, which lead to how he got caught by his boss. His boss was super pissed at what he did, but luckily, Danna stepped in to help explain what happened. She told him about the threats, insults, and provocation that the Russian pulled that caused Alfred's temper to flare up. Though his boss was still mad at Alfred's idiotic stunt and that he should have more self-control, he didn't fire him. He was merciful enough to just suspend him for the next five days. After the lecture, his boss sent him home, but Alfred decided to come to the cafe to wait for his brother instead. Rather than wait inside, he stayed outside because he wanted some time to himself to let his terrible mood to calm down.

Matthew couldn't help but feel both pity and annoyed at his brother. He felt pity for Al because it wasn't him that started the fight and he was clearly provoked by the other person, but that didn't mean Matthew approved of Al's behavior. Alfred should've been more mature about handling the situation and not give in to his temper. He should've been more professional since he was dealing with guests.

Of course, Matthew didn't say this out right to his brother, because he could tell that Alfred already got a good earful from his boss and Matthew didn't want to add to Al's broken pride.

After Alfred was done with telling him of his horrible day, Matthew asked, "So what do you feel today, eh? Where did you pick?"

"I feel like doing something out of the norm so I thought maybe some Asian food or Mexican," thought Alfred. "What do you think?"

"Not sure… Chinese?" suggested Matthew. Thank god it wasn't fast food again.

"Alrighty! I think I remember seeing a few of them in town. I think there was one down here somewhere," Alfred started to look around the street to find a Chinese restaurant.

It wasn't very long until they came upon one down the street. It wasn't one of those fancy and expensive places since there was no way they could afford it, but it was a casual and normal looking restaurant where the menu was catered towards Americans. In other words, a Chinese American fusion restaurant, or not-authentic-Chinese food. The sign above the door said "Panda Love" and had a cute cartoony panda on the side, holding onto a pink heart in its front paws.

"Panda Love? Really?" Matthew stared at the sign suspiciously.

"Yep!" Alfred confirmed. "Heard that this place is pretty good. Especially those duck dumplings and fried noodles."

Matthew still stared at the Panda in disapproval and mumbled under his breath, "Polar bears are much better than pandas."

"You say something?"

"Nothing."

They both walked into the restaurant and got a table booth beside the wall. There were Chinese paintings hanging on the walls and potted bamboos placed in corners of the room. A pair of small lion statues guarding the entrance with a small water fountain between them. There was also a small shrine placed beside the cashier counter with burnt incense sticks sticking out of the ash pot. That would explain the slight smoky smell in the air.

After a waitress took their order, Alfred began chatting with Matthew about what he should do during his suspension period. He was thinking about going to the arcade and movies with Matthew, but the younger brother had to remind him that he still had work. So Alfred had to ponder whether to go spend his five days on his own or just stay home watching rented movies all day.

Just as Alfred was still planning on how to waste time not doing anything productive, a large group of people entered the restaurant. It was a pretty large group and consisted of Asians. Their hair ranged from black to dark brown and some of them had skin tones that were darker than others. Even a few of their clothes had some distinguishable features from one another.

The large number caught the attention of some of the other customers for a few seconds before going back to minding their own business. Even the two brothers took a glance at them curiously.

"Wow, how many are there in that group? Ten? Twenty?" wondered Alfred.

"Maybe they're celebrating something?" guessed Matthew. "Could be a family or friend thing."

At the front of the group, a man with long dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail told a waiter the number of their group. The surprise look on the waiter's face when told the exact number nearly made Alfred spit out his water. The waiter had to get a few of his coworkers to quickly help set up some tables together to accommodate the large group. Fortunately, the place wasn't crowded, so they had enough tables for them. As the group began to sit down, Matthew noticed a familiar figure among them.

"Isn't that Kiku?" Matthew asked.

"Where?" Alfred began to search for the Japanese among the Asians. "Oh hey! You're right! YO KIKU!"

Upon hearing his name being called so loudly, Kiku jolted in surprise and turned to whoever was calling him. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who turned to look as well.

Matthew wanted to hide under the table when all eyes turned to his brother, who was waving excitedly at the Japanese man. He hoped that his zero presence ability was kicking in right now, because Matthew really didn't want people associating him with this walking megaphone.

"Kiku, you know that man?" the man next to Kiku asked.

" _Hai_ , he's an acquaintance," Kiku answered.

"Who strange white man, aru?" demanded the Asian with the pony tail. "He very loud."

"Excusu me," Kiku got up and walked towards the brothers' table.

"Good to see you, Kiku," greeted Alfred. "You eating with your family or something?"

"Goodu evening, Jones-san. It's nice to meet you too," Kiku greeted back. "And yes, I am with my famiree. What about you? Are you with your brotheru?"

"I'm right here," Matthew called out.

"Ah! I am very sorry! I didn' see you there," Kiku apologized quickly, feeling embarrassed.

"It's alright. It happens a lot with me so I'm used to it," Matthew assured him.

"It's nice to see you again, Williams-san," Kiku bowed politely.

"You can just call me Matthew," The Canadian brother told the Japanese.

"And you can call Alfred or Al, for short," added Alfred. "And dang, Kiku, you have a large family! Must be pretty crowded over there."

"It isu. My famiree can get particuraree loud during our gatherings," admitted Kiku.

"You're not all Japanese, right?" asked Matthew, noticing the slight difference in clothing within the group. "I believe some of them are wearing some kind of Chinese clothes while others seem more south east Asian."

" _Hai_ , I am the onree Japanese," confirmed the man. "My famiree consists of many nationarities around Asia."

"I see," Matthew nodded in understanding.

" _Ni hao!_ Nice to meet you! Are you Kiku's friends, aru?" The Asian with the pony tail popped out from behind Japan without any of them noticing. Like Kiku, This man also had a distinct accent in his speech, but it sounded different from Kiku's Japanese accent.

"Yao-san!" Kiku jumped in surprise.

"Hi! I'm Alfred! Alfred F. Jones at your service," Alfred introduced himself with a friendly wave.

"Good evening. I'm Matthew Williams," Matthew gave the newcomer a friendly smile. "We met Kiku a few times, that's all."

"Wang Yao. His o'der brother," The man patted Kiku's shoulder as indication.

"So you're his brother," stated Matthew. "So you're also Japanese then."

"No no, not Japanese. I am from China," corrected Wang.

This caused the two blonds to stare at each other. Siblings of different nationality? That would explain the different accent. Though not unheard of, but it was still rare to find siblings with different lineage. Not like they can say much since they also both claimed different nationalities among themselves as well. But they were different. They honestly didn't know where they were born since they were too young to remember before Nuna adopted them, but they were sure it was somewhere in North America. They each picked their own country they felt more close to, not where they were born.

"Wait, so Kiku is Japanese and you're Chinese?" Alfred spoke to Wang, confused. "How'd that work?"

"We're not rerated by brood," answered Kiku, calmly. It was as if this wasn't the first time he had to answer this type of question.

_That would explain a lot_ , thought the two blonds.

"Yes and everyone at tab'e…," Wang waved at the other Asians at their table, "… are a'so famee'y not re'ated by b'ood. We are one big famee'y, aru."

"… No kidding," Alfred stared at Wang's and Kiku's family members. "Are they Japanese and Chinese too, eh?"

"… No, we all come from different countries," explained Kiku. "There are Hong Kong, South Korea, Taiwan, Vietnam, Thailando, Macao, Maraysia, Indonesia, and many otheru Asian country."

Both Alfred and Matthew stared at the two Asians in front of them, stumped at the number of nationalities the Japanese listed.

Okay, now this was getting outrageous. How the hell did a family have family members coming from so many different countries?! And consisting of Asians at that! Their family must nuts for diversity to have this many people from so many different Asian nations!

"You have a very… _assorted_ family," Matthew commented.

"More like crazy," Alfred mumbled, which Matthew heard and stomped on his brother's foot under the table, causing Alfred to squeak in pain.

Fortunately, the two Asians didn't hear the last comment, because one of their family members was calling them.

"Kiku! Wang! We will order now so what you want?" asked an Asian man.

"Hold on! 'et me see menu, aru!" called Wang before turning to bow to the two blonds. "Eet nice to meet you, but I must go now. Kiku, hurry back to table, aru."

" _Hai_ , Yao san," Kiku nodded to his Chinese brother before also turning to Alfred and Matthew. "I must go now. It was nice meeting you two again."

"It was nice meeting you and your brother," replied Matthew.

"Yeah, like what my brother here said," agreed Alfred.

So the Japanese man bowed to them before returning to his table. It was not long after that the food that Alfred and Matthew ordered arrived. But before either of them could take a bite, there was aloud angry outburst coming from Kiku's table.

"You call thees CHINESE FOOD?!" Wang yelled in an offended voice. "Very poor EEMEETATION! DEESGRACE!"

The whole restaurant turned and stared at the angry Chinese man, including Alfred and Matthew.

"Ca'm down. You making scene," a man with choppy dark brown hair and an expressionless face next to the Chinese advised with a deadpan tone.

"Of cour'e, he wou'd know best when it come to good or bad 'imitation'," a girl with long brown hair tied in a loose ponytail grumbled to the man next to her.

"Don' mind him, ana. Dhat's how he is," the man replied with a smile. This guy had spiky brown hair and wore a pair of glasses.

"Why do you have kimchee weeth you?" asked another man with a neatly combed black hair and also wore a pair of glasses. He had been watching another man, a short black hair with a flyaway curl, pull out a very large container of kimchi out of nowhere and scooped a large amount of its content with his chopsticks onto his plate.

"Because kimchi is awesome, da-ze!" was all he replied before scooping out a few more large amount of the red pickled cabbage.

"Where you even… never mind," the other man decided to give up asking.

"HOW DARE YOU USE 'PANDA' IN YOUR RESTAURANT NAME WHEN YOU DON'T MAKE PROPER FOOD FROM NATION IT CAME FROM! SHAME ON YOU! SHAME ON YOUR FAMEE'Y! SHAME ON YOUR DOG! SHAME ON YOUR CAT! SHAME ON YOUR CHICKEN!…" Wang kept on shaming loudly while Kiku tried desperately to calm him down and apologized to the waiter and the other customers nearby.

This spectacle caused quite the dilemma for the restaurant's staffs and made the customers nervous. Matthew started to wonder if he could still pretend that he didn't know them. Alfred on the other hand…

"Damn! Let me correct what I said before. They're not crazy, they're insane!"

"Shhh! Don't let them hear you," Matthew hushed his brother.

"I want to join them!"

"ALFRED FRANKLIN JONES, DON'T YOU DARE!"

For the next twenty or thirty minutes, Matthew was able to keep Alfred at the table and finish their food. While Alfred finished up his orange chicken and fried noodle, his eyes kept darting towards the same loud crowd of Asians and he wasn't the only one.

Even after they got their food, Kiku's family was still loud and lively afterwards. Wang was still fuming about the authenticity of the dishes and about disrespecting pandas. Kiku was busy taking pictures of the food with his phone. There was a girl, who had three white flowers placed on the left side of her long wavy dark brown hair, chatting loudly and laughing hysterically at her own jokes. Two men started 'politely' arguing over the last piece of barbecue pork. No, they weren't fighting over it, but they were trying to let the other person have it and being stubbornly considerate about it while keeping a polite smile on their faces. The man, that Alfred dubbed 'The Kimchi guy', was already more than half way down his kimchi jar, but a second jar was already brought out from who-knows-where in case he finished his first one.

While Matthew went to pay for their meal at the cashier, Alfred slipped away and snuck to talk to Kiku.

"Hey, Kiku!" Alfred called from behind the Japanese man.

The said Japanese turned around and gave the American a curious look.

"So me and Mattie are done and leaving now so I came to say good bye," told Alfred. "I also have something I wanna ask you too."

" _Hai?_ What isu it, Jones-san?" asked Kiku.

"Do you know any Russian guy name Ivan Bragy-something?" whispered Alfred.

"Ivan Braginsky?"

"Yeah! You know him? Is he your colleague too? Like does he work in the same field as you and the other guys?"

" _Hai…_ ," the Japanese nodded slowly in confirmation.

"God damn it! So he really was telling the truth," Alfred cursed under his breath.

"Did you… meet him?" Kiku suddenly turned slightly pale and sounded concern.

"Yeah. He came to the museum I work at," Alfred explained, not noticing the nervous look the Japanese was showing. "He wanted to join the tour, but he was being kinda… _suspicious_ so I tried to decline but the guy wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. He said he knew you guys too so I just wanna make sure he wasn't anyone—well, suspicious."

"Did he do _anything_ to you?" Kiku inquired worriedly.

"Uh… he _kinda_ threatened me and insulted my workplace, but nothing really physical." There was that arm wrestling, but Alfred didn't feel like telling him that. He didn't want the Japanese man to think he was immature and unprofessional. Not to mention, he was still sore about being suspended by his boss.

"So he didn't harm you? That's good," Kiku sighed in relief.

Wait… was he implying that the Russian was normally violent? Alfred stared at the Japanese in disbelief.

"Did you… agree to his demands?" Kiku asked, sounding both concern and nervous.

"No…not yet," Alfred answered with uncertainty. "I just wanted to make sure he wasn't anyone dangerous and he is what he said he is before I agree to let him join. So you cool with him joining?"

"I… ret me talk with the others first and we will ret you know," told Kiku.

"Okay, that's fine," agreed Alfred.

Over at the cashier, Matthew just finished paying and went to get his brother. But on the way, one of the Asians with the expressionless face walked passed him and went to the cashier, asking to pay half the bill for his table.

Just as Matthew bid the Japanese farewell and grabbed his brother, Wang asked for the tab. The next thing the two brothers knew, almost the whole table started fighting over the tab. It was both a baffling and amusing moment for the two blonds. Wang claimed that he should pay the bill since he was the oldest, but others kept trying to either steal the receipt or shove their money or credit card into the waiter's hand, ordering him to quickly take the money and pay the bill. The poor waiter looked dumbfounded, not sure if there was a proper procedure for this kind of situation.

"Man! I wished we had someone aggressively fighting to pay our bills like that," Alfred thought with envy.

Matthew quickly dragged his brother out of the restaurant as fast as possible, away from the crazy group of Asians.

* * *

"That was like the funniest dinner I ever had! Those guys were freaking hilarious!" Alfred cackled, nearly choking himself.

"It was definitely… out of the ordinary, eh?" agreed Matthew.

The two brothers were walking down the quiet street towards their apartment. It was already dark and most people were already indoors. There were lights from lamp posts and store signs illuminating their path so they were able to see where they were going.

"I wonder if I should invite Kiku's whole family to the tour too. It would make the tour a whole lot more fun," thought Alfred.

Matthew stared at his brother and wondered what kind of a mayhem was his brother planning now. It was even more worrisome when he caused chaos without meaning too. His definition of fun can be questionable.

"That does remind me though… I still haven't really decided on what to do for the next five days?" wondered Alfred.

"Rent some movies or videogames," suggested Matthew. "Or maybe walk around town and just explore?"

"I already explored the town a few times, so I know enough about what stores are where," stated the American. "But I don't want to be stuck at home the whole time so maybe I'll switch around my activities. Might as well work out a little more at the park. I feel like I've been slacking off lately."

"Yes, you do need those exercises," Matthew agreed completely. "You need to burn all the calories from all that junk food you consumed on a regular basis. I'm still surprised you haven't gotten a heart attack or at least become obese, especially with that ridiculous amount you tend to eat."

"Hey! I eat healthy too!" Alfred retorted, offended. "I have lettuce and tomatoes in my burgers and a few vegetable toppings on my pizzas too."

"That's not enough," argued the Canadian. "You need more vegetables like salad and less greasy and fattening stuff like fast food."

"Are you trying to starve me, bro?!" Alfred stared at Matthew as if he just suggested something sacrilege.

Before Matthew could reply to his brother's childish accusation, he heard the faint sound of footsteps. He thought there were only him and his brother that were still out on the streets. Seemed like there were still people wandering about at this time. He turned around out of instinct, trying to find where that sound was coming from. But when he turned, he saw nobody in sight. Not even a shadow of a figure. The sound of footsteps had already stopped so Matthew couldn't pinpoint where it came from anymore.

Was he just imagining it?

"Hey, you alright, man?" asked Alfred, noticing his little brother's behavior.

"Uh… no, I'm fine," assured Matthew. "Just thought I heard something."

Hearing this, Alfred started to look around. But when he saw no one, he turned pale and asked nervously, "You sure? It not a ghost right? This street better not be haunted."

"Al, seriously?" Matthew gave his brother a deadpanned look. "It was probably someone walking nearby and I just missed them. Besides, I never heard of any haunted streets in this town. You're just scaring yourself with your own imagination."

Alfred wasn't convinced and still looked around nervously as if expecting something to jump out and ambush them. He had the strength that surpassed any human was capable of, but he was terrified of ghosts. Alfred would just argue that he could punch anything that was solid enough, but ghost wasn't one of them. Yet, this idiot loved watching horror movies for some reason.

"Let's just get home, eh?" Matthew sighed, not wanting to deal with anymore… 'excitement.'

"… Okay," Alfred agreed, though still looking around warily. Suddenly, he grabbed Matthew's arm.

"Al?"

"If something happens, I can protect you."

"Protect me?" Matthew stared at his brother, dumbfounded. That's when he felt Alfred's hand shaking and realized his brother's true intention. This cocky loudmouth had scared himself with his wild idea of a haunted street and was seeking comfort from his only companion, his younger brother. "Alright. Whatever makes you feel better, eh."

With the older sticking close to his younger brother, the two immortals walked down their path. Matthew swore he should ban any horror movies until Alfred grew back his backbone again. Sometimes, Matthew wondered who was the older one now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Can anyone guess which Asian is which nation? I tried my best to use their appearance, personality, and accent as hints.
> 
> Being a Thai American with a Thai Chinese family that used to live in Thailand for 6 years, I have a good idea of certain Asian stereotypes. The most commonly known, the adults or host are the ones that pay for the meal during family gatherings. But in Thailand, it gets more... dramatic. Lots of times during my family gatherings, the adults will fight over the bill, even if they aren't the host or oldest one. Anyone with money and a paying job will try to claim the bill, even if it means shoving money into the waiter's hand or sneaking to the cashier, claiming to go to the bathroom. Sometimes, it even gets into a small argument. I started to make it into a game and bet who's gonna get the bill every time my family has a family gathering. Heck! It doesn't even have to be a family gathering. It even happens during hang out with friends. My mom invited a friend for lunch and she was going to pay for it, but then her friend took out her credit card before my mom could and paid for the whole meal. My mom felt so bad because she ordered a lot of stuff while her friend ordered just one noodle bowl, so she ordered her friend that she(my mom) was paying next meal.
> 
> My proofreader, rainsonata is Vietnamese American, so she gave me some interesting info on vietnamese people. She told me that some Vietnamese still hold a grudge against China for messing up their culture when they took over their country. One of the reason why their language consists of European letters and not Chinese like other Chinese conquered nation was due to them wanting to have nothing to do with China (and to spite them, according to my sources). Don't know how accurate this is, but if it's coming from a Vietnamese so it has to have some credibility. (Lots of Thai people also don't like China Chinese tourists too due to their terrible behavior in Thailand. Even my mom despise them. She has so many stories she would tell me of terrible Chinese tourists.)


	11. Chapter 10

It was a nice and quiet morning for England as he sipped his tea in the hotel restaurant. It was still early, so there weren't many people and he was able to take his time relaxing and reading a good book. England really liked this kind of atmosphere. No loud noises, no Frog, a nice tea to enjoy while reading, no Frog, no paperwork to worry about for awhile, no Frog, no ridiculous demands from his superiors, and no Frog. Definitely a fine morning relaxation.

Just as he was getting into a good part in the story, he was interrupted by the sound of his phone. To professionals or a fan of classical music, they would recognize the ringtone as one of Beethoven's masterpieces. His older brothers would make fun of him for it, but England considered them to be too immature to understand fine and sophisticated music.

England was put out little by the sudden interruption, but he marked where he last read on the page before closing his book and picked up his phone.

On the screen, it showed that Japan was calling.

"Good morning, Kiku," England picked up the call. He called Japan by his human name since he was out in public.

[Goodu morning, Engrand san,] Japan replied.

"What do I owe the pleasure of you calling me this early in the morning?" asked England, taking another sip of his tea.

[There is something I need to discussu with you. I met Jones san yesterday and he toldo me he met Russia san,] told Japan.

"Russia?" England wondered how the American meet the Russian nation. Normally, Russia wouldn't wander around town since he wasn't the type to take a stroll, especially in this nation's territory. Even though the Cold War ended more than two decades ago, Russia and this nation's government still didn't get along very well. There was still a sense of rivalry and suspicion between the two.

[ _Hai_. He notified me Russia san wanted to join the tour with usu, but Jones san wanted to know if we are fine with it before a'rowing Russia san to join our group,] Japan explained.

"What about the others? Have you spoken with them about this yet?" England asked.

[ _Hai_. I a'ready toldo Germany san and Italy san yesterday and they agreed though reructantry. I arso called France san and he agreed as well,] confirmed Japan.

England had to take a second or two before he answered, "Alright. We might as well let him join. Though, I don't know why Russia would be interested in this tour, but it's better to agree. It's not like it's some political event so there shouldn't be any problems."

Besides, they were in another nation's territory. It was courtesy that a nation behaves in another nation's place. It was like being in someone else's house. Even Russia knew when to not cross the line unless he wanted the American government to rein upon him. Not that the Russian was afraid of the Americans. No, he was far from afraid. What he didn't want was his superiors scolding him for it.

[Understood. I'll carru Jones san and terru him.]

"Alright. Is that all?"

[Hai. Goodu day, Engrand san]

"Good day to you as well, Kiku," England bid his fellow nation farewell before the line hung up.

With Russia joining their little tour, England felt a little nervous. He wondered if Russia gave the Alfred boy a hard time since it seemed that the American didn't agree to let Russia join them right away. Knowing the Russian nation, if someone didn't agree with him, he would resort to threats and even physical violence. Even now, there were still nations that were intimidated by him as a superpower nation.

For now, England could only hope that he was just overthinking it and nothing would go wrong on this trip.

* * *

Since Alfred was off from work for the next five days, he spent his first day on his computer, playing an online game. It was a multiplayer where they battled each other in teams. It was a mix of sci-fi and fantasy with variety of characters he could choose from. Alfred chose a cyborg cowboy character that specialized in dual guns and a shotgun, which shoot out special bullets that explode on impact. He really liked this character, but he often got killed because he liked charging into enemies when he was a long range shooter.

One time, his team mates were furiously shouting at him for being a suicidal idiot when Alfred dashed up to the other team's location. While his team were dumbfounded by his action, Alfred provided a great distraction when the enemies were shocked when he ran up to them, firing like a trigger happy maniac. This caused the other team to start targeting him so Alfred had to do his best to run around to dodge their attacks while still firing back at them. This gave his team enough time to surround the other team and ambush them. In the end, they barely won. Alfred got yelled at by his team but at the same time, praised for being bold and crazy.

Alfred was in the middle of another battle and he did what he did best, distracting.

"Bwahahahahaha! You have nothing on me, Porky!" Alfred mocked loudly at the anthropomorphic boar character with a battle axe. The boar tried to swing its gigantic axe at him, but it kept missing because Alfred was faster. "Time to turn you into pork chop! Eat this!"

He sent a deadly blast at the boar and defeated it one hit.

"Booya! Who's the man? I am! Who's the badass cowboy? I AM!"

[Calm down, cowboy] said a voice from Alfred's headphones. [There're still about six of them left.]

[Me and RiotBot27 got their tank and healer.] Another voice spoke up.

[I'm running low on HP! StarAngel023, where are you?!] came a third voice.

[I'm healing LordJackASS0116 over here!] replied a fourth.

[Well get your ass over here quick! I'm dying!] The third demanded.

[Fuck you! I can't teleport! You are like half across the field!] shouted the fourth. [WHY IS EVERYBODY SCATTERED EVERYWHERE!? I CAN'T GET TO YOU ALL IF YOU'RE ALL OVER THE PLACE!]

[Crap! I'm running low on HP. StarAng…] A fifth voice came on but was quickly cut off by the fourth.

[FUCK! WOULD YOU GUYS STOP DYING AT THE SAME TIME FOR JUST ONE MINUTE?!]

"So… anybody need a back up shooter?" Alfred asked, ignoring the raging healer player on their team.

[I can do with a sniper. I have this bird guy here shooting ice arrows at me.] answered the first guy.

"On my way!" replied Alfred, but before he headed out to help his fellow player, his phone vibrated.

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

"Hm?" Alfred stared at his phone that was next to his keyboard. "Crap! I got a call."

[We're in the middle of a battle here!… Is it urgent?]

Alfred looked at the screen and it showed 'Kiku Honda' was calling him.

"I don't know if it's urgent, but I might need to take this call. Can you hold on for a few minutes?" Alfred told his team member.

[Fine! Hurry up and finish the call. Then get back here ASAP.]

"Got it!" Alfred took off his headphones and picked up his call. "Hello. This is Alfred."

[Goodu morning, Jones san. This isu Honda Kiku,] greeted the caller.

"Hey, Kiku. Just call me Alfred," he said over the phone. "So what's up?"

[I'm calling about Ivan,] answered Kiku. [I have discussed thisu with my colleagues to have him join the tour with us.]

"Oh, okay…," Alfred was not happy, but he reluctantly agreed. Even if he didn't like the guy… scratch that, he _really_ did not like the guy, but if Kiku and the others were okay to have him on board then he had no choice but to agree. "I'll give him a call and tell him that."

[Okay,] Kiku agreed. [I hope you have a goodu day, Jo—Alfred san.]

"Thanks, you too, Kiku. See you soon." With that, Alfred ended the call.

"Ugh… Damn commie," Alfred groaned.

There was a long silence as the American contemplated whether to call the Russian or not. That was when he realized something.

"Crap! I don't know his number!"

* * *

"Hey, Matthew," Kristy tapped the Canadian's shoulder.

"Eh? What is it?" Matthew asked.

He was in the middle of putting away the broom in the storage closet, which was located in the kitchen, when she appeared from behind him.

"Can I ask you a favor?" she asked, looking suspiciously worried.

"Depends on what you want," He said, curious. "So what do you want me to help with, eh?"

"Can you… walk me home?" She looked away, feeling embarrassed.

"Are you trying to flirt with me again?" Matthew gave her a suspicious look. "I told you already tha…"

"No! No, that's not it," Kristy quickly cut him off. "I just feel like I've been followed lately."

Now this got Matthew's full attention. "Followed?"

"Yeah and sometimes like I'm being watched, too," she added. Her usual lively self was no longer present and was replaced with a worried and anxious behavior.

"Is it your ex?" he asked.

"That's what I thought too," agreed Kristy. "But I haven't seen the asshole at all lately and I haven't been getting his creepy texts too so I don't know."

"We should really call the police," suggested Matthew. "It'll be safer. If it is your ex, then the police can arrest him and he won't be able to bother you anymore."

"… I guess," sighed Kristy. "Even though I don't like getting the police involved, I'll call them. It's nerve wrecking when I have to constantly look over my shoulder when I feel like I'm being stalked. But just in case, can you still walk me home?"

"Of course," Matthew replied with an assuring smile. "There's no way I won't help with a stalker out there."

"Thanks a bunch! You're a lifesaver, you know that?" complimented Kristy. Her cheery self seemed to have returned. "Too bad you're taken. You would've been a great boyfriend to have."

"I'm _what?_ " Matthew stared at her in confusion.

"Huh…" Kristy sighed dramatically. "Even though you have the qualities of a caring and attentive boyfriend, it's all about your brother. Such a waste."

"OH MY GOD! KRISTY!"

Before Matthew could say anything else, the over-fantasizing girl had already dashed back out to the tables, laughing like crazy on the way out. He knew that Kristy was just messing with him, but some things she said were just extremely creepy and uncomfortable. Why did he had to end up working with such a weird girl?

* * *

After finishing up his online battle with his team, Alfred decided to take a break outside. He walked out of his apartment and down the streets without any specific destination in mind. Honestly, he was just trying to delay the inevitable.

He didn't want to talk to that Russian since he was still bitter about getting in trouble, but he had to call him eventually about the tour…

Unfortunately for him, Alfred didn't know the Russian's number.

He didn't want to call Kiku or the others since he felt stupid about it. Why didn't he ask for Ivan's number when he had the chance? Damn it! Now they're going to think he was irresponsible and unprofessional for not realizing this first.

"Argh! Stupid stupid Alfred. How am I supposed to contact that Ivan guy now?" he groaned in frustration. "Maybe I should just suck it up and call Arthur or someone to get his damn number."

He was strolling down the sidewalk with his phone out. But instead of making the call, he just stared at it with an irritated look. His stubbornness and pride was too strong for him.

Damn his stubborn ego!

Suddenly, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and it made him jolt in surprise.

"Vhat a coincident, Mr. Jones. I didn't dhink I'll be meeting you again so soon."

That polite yet ominous Russian accent… you have got to be kidding me!

Alfred turned around and found the familiar innocent smiling Russian standing behind him, Ivan Braginsky.

"You!" cried Alfred, shocked at his sudden appearance.

"Yes?" Ivan tilted his head to the side.

Alfred took a few steps back and stared at the man before him. "W-what? How? Where'd you…?"

"I know ve had a rough start yesterday and I gave you a bad impression of myself, so I vas hoping I could apologize," explained Ivan.

Bad impression? That's an understatement of the year!

"I didn't know how to contact you and vhen I called dhe museum you vorked at, dhey told me you vere not vorking today. Dhis is very fortunate to meet you here on dhe streets vhen I vas in such a predicament," smiled Ivan. "Since you're not vorking today, you have time to spare vith me, yes?"

The American couldn't help but stare at the man with complete confusion and disbelief. "What's your game here?"

"Game?" Ivan gave him a confused look. "I am not playing any game."

"Yeah…," Alfred gave him a suspicious look. "You're asking me to hang out with you, man. After what happened yesterday, excuse me if I'm still bitter about it."

"Dhat's vhy I am asking if you're free. I want to take you out to lunch as an apology. I vill pay, of course," Ivan said with a innocent kind smile.

"So you're gonna pay for my lunch, huh?" Alfred started to ease up. Free food? Who can say no to that? "Alright. Can I pick the place then?"

"Of course," nodded Ivan.

A wide grin started to form on Alfred's face upon the Russian's agreement.

* * *

Less than twenty minutes later…

Ivan tried his best to keep his smile on his face as he watched the American in front of him tear a T-bone streak like a savage beast. Not to mention, this was his seventh plate and he already ordered a prime rib a few minutes ago. The way Alfred was eating was as if he had been starving for months. But anybody who knew him would know that when given the chance, this man could eat a whole truck full of food. It didn't look like he was going to slow down any time soon.

The place that Alfred chose to have lunch was a steak house. It wasn't extravagant or classy, but it was still not a cheap place to dine. Alfred was practically making a scene as other customers were staring at him with wide eyes of shock at the amount and speed he was eating. It hadn't been more than ten minutes since they got here and Alfred had already went through more than half a dozen steak dishes. He even had his napkin tucked in his collar as the steak sauce and the juice from the meat splattered all over the white cloth and table.

"F'ank for eh 'eal!" Alfred mumbled through his mouth full of beef.

"Excuse me?" Ivan gave a look that said he didn't understand what the American said.

Alfred quickly swallowed before repeating again, "Thanks for the meal! I've been wanting to try this place out, but Mattie said it was waaaay over our budget."

"I am glad you are enjoying yourself," Ivan replied, trying to keep a straight face.

"I guess you weren't as bad as I thought," commented Alfred. "Believe it or not, Ivan. I was also trying to contact you too. Talk about a huge coincident, right?"

"Oh? Dhat is quite funny," agreed Ivan. "And vhy did you vant to contact me for?"

"It's about the tour, dude. Remember?" reminded Alfred. "I met Kiku by accident yesterday while he was with his family so I asked about you and I got the green light that you're okay to join. I just needed a confirmation that you aren't some spy or assassin that's out to get them, ya know? They _are_ government workers after all."

"I see. Now I understand vhy you vere so reluctant yesterday," smiled Ivan. "You vere looking out for my colleagues. Dhat I dhank you."

"Sure, man. They're my guests after all, so I gotta make sure they're safe while they're under my care," Alfred grinned proudly. "

"So Alfred, how long have you been living in this small city?" asked Ivan.

"Not that long actually," answered Alfred, stabbing a small piece of steak and shoving it into his mouth. "It's only been a few months since we moved here."

"Ve?" Ivan looked at Alfred with interest.

"Yeah, me and my brother, Matthew," explained Alfred.

" _Really?_ So vhere did you and your brodher moved from?" Ivan started to sound more intrigued, but Alfred didn't notice his change of tone at all.

"We came down from Ontario," told Alfred. "It's in Canada by the way. Mattie likes Canada a lot, but I prefer America more."

"I see," Ivan nodded. "Have you lived anyvhere else? You look like dhe type of person who doesn't stay in one place for too long."

"Yeah, we've been to a lot of places. We kinda move between America and Canada back and forth," Alfred stuffed another slice of steak into his mouth.

"Vhat about your parents? Do you visit dhem often?"

"We don't have parents," Alfred replied, calmly. He was used to retelling this story. Not like it was a lie or anything and he didn't feel like it was a tragic thing. He had Mattie, after all. It wasn't like they were on their own when they were little. "Been orphans as far as I remember. We've been adopted a few times when we were little."

"So how old are you dhen? You look young yet, you show a certain amount of independence and experience for someone your age," Ivan questioned as he stared at the American with more fascination.

"You ask a lot of questions, you know that?" Alfred snapped back, starting to feel uncomfortable with all this one-sided questioning. It was like he was being interrogated for some reason. "Let me ask something about you too since I already told a lot about myself. Do you have any family? Siblings?"

"Yes, I do actually," confirmed Ivan. "I have two sisters. One who is older and another dhat is younger. Dhey are both very precious to me."

"Really? What about your parents?" Alfred gave a look of interest.

"We too don't have parents like you," stated Ivan. "It has always been my sisters and I."

"Oh… sorry… I guess that kinda means we're on the same boat then," Alfred was now feeling awkward. He didn't mind telling people that he had no parents, but that didn't mean other people were. Damn it! It was a bad slip on his part. Now the guy was going to think he was inconsiderate.

"It's quite alright," assured Ivan. "I don't pay much attention to such trivial matters."

"Oh… okay," Alfred still felt awkward, but he didn't know what else to say. Fortunately, a waiter arrived to their table with his next order of steak so the American was happily distracted by the new plate of barbecued beef.

For the next hour or so, Alfred kept ordering new plates of steak and the pile of porcelain dishes kept stacking higher and higher with every order he made. The pile of plates slowly turning into a tower and a second tower was already in the making. Even Ivan, who kept trying to keep his innocent calm smile, was slowly staring at the hungry American with wide eyes of amazement. Did this man ever stop eating?

Fortunately, Alfred did stop eating once he was full.

Unfortunately, by the time he did get full, Ivan didn't want to see the bill.

Once the waiter handed him the bill, Ivan stared with even wider eyes. The next time he planned to feed this gluttonous man, it would not be any time soon.

* * *

After his afternoon tea, England took stroll through the quiet city for some fresh air. He had been thinking about Russia's sudden interest in American history. It was a little strange to say the least in England's opinion. Maybe the Russian nation was bored and thought it would be interesting to join them when he himself didn't care for anything American that much. That would make sense. When the man found something interesting, you could bet that he would try to be involved.

England sighed, worried that something could happen to the tour with Russia around. No doubt, he would make it awkward somehow…

And he would do it with an innocent smile on his face.

Just when things couldn't be anymore worrisome for England, the nation came upon a sight that made him stop in his tracks and stared in confusion.

Walking out of an American restaurant, which England faintly remembered served mostly steak on their menu, was Alfred and Russia.

Why was Russia with the Alfred boy?!

Alfred had this very satisfied and happy look on his face like he enjoyed what he had in that place while Russia was walking behind him with a strained smile like he was trying very hard to keep his appearance of a innocent looking man.

What the bloody hell happened between the two?

England quickly walked up to them, anxious to see what could have transpired between them.

"Alfred? Ivan? What are you two doing together?" he asked.

"Arthur?" Alfred turned to the British man with surprise. "Hey! Good to see you! I didn't expect to meet you on the street."

"I vas treating Alfred to lunch because I vanted to apologize for my rude behavior yesterday," explained Ivan. "Now if it's alright vith you, Alfred, I have some business I must attend to so excuse me."

"No probs! Thanks for the food, man," Alfred thanked the Russian while holding out his hand.

The Russian took his hand and shook it. Then he bid farewell before walking away. England watched the man leave with confusion and suspicion. It was rare for Russia to treat complete strangers to meals unless there was any political benefits. Of course, Russia loved having close friends and family over for gatherings and festivities, but Alfred was not only a stranger he just met, but a normal human being with no political infiltration or benefits. He was just a normal person so why was Russia treating him to a meal?

"Hey, Arthur! So what're you doing right now? Taking a stroll around town?" asked Alfred, not noticing the strange look on his face.

Waking from his thoughts, the British answered, "O-oh, yes, I was just taking an afternoon stroll. If you don't mind me asking, why were you together?"

"Like Ivan said, he was just treating me," replied Alfred.

"Did you two discuss about anything?"

"Just about the tour and that he'll be joining you guys," Alfred tried to recall what else they talked about. "And a little about our life I guess. He's kinda like me since we both don't have parents and he also said that he had two sisters. He's actually a pretty decent person once we talked a bit, even though we had a pretty bad first impression of each other. "

"Well… that's good to hear," sighed Arthur. Looking at the American's beaming happily, Arthur decided he was telling the truth. Alfred seemed to be an honest and sincere type. His thoughts and feelings tended to show on his face and behavior. If Russia didn't do anything suspicious or harmful to the boy then it should be fine.

Why was he so concerned for one mere boy anyways? Maybe it was his nation's instinct to protect his former colony's civilians, even when they had separated from his royal family's rule long ago.

* * *

_Sounds of gunshots and exploding cannons could be heard around the thick forests. Several figures could be seen running through the mist of smoke and orders being yelled to fire at incoming enemies. More gunshots were fired and bodies fell to the ground. The scent of gunpowder, blood, and death filled the air._

_England was barely holding his rifle to aim at the men in blue uniforms he spotted through the mist of gunpowder. It took almost all his energy to focus and to keep his hand steady. The pain that he was experiencing was making it hard to concentrate. The gunshot wounds he received earlier wasn't what made it painful since he could easily heal from such injuries very quickly, but it was the pain of his people that were dying around him._

_He could feel them… their death… their life disappearing one after another. Scars of war slowly appearing on his body and digging into his heart._

_It was normal for humans to die everyday, but not this many in a short amount of time. A few deaths wouldn't effect a nation that much, but when during war where masses of people killed each other on the battlefield, the effects could be felt and seen on a nation._

_This wouldn't have happened if his colony didn't try to leave him. Why must they want to separate from him? He gave them food, clothes, and other necessary supplies, so why was it not enough? What did he do wrong?_

_Just before he pulled the trigger, a sound of a branch snapping caught his attention and he jolted in surprise. England looked around and spotted a figure running towards him with a rifle in hand. Through the thick smoke, he could see the blue colors of his uniform. A colonist._

_Panicking, England quickly swung his rifle around and aimed at the incoming figure. He was ready to fire, but before he did, the figure stopped in his tracks and stared at him in shock._

_They both stood frozen, staring at each other._

_England was exhausted and breathing hard. His adrenaline was still rushing through his body. He kept telling himself to pull the trigger. He was just another ungrateful colonist. But for some reason his hand would not move._

_Once the smoke slowly cleared up, the man's face started to become clearer to him. Something about him looked familiar. Has he met this man before the war? Why did he feel his chest aching?_

" _Artie?"_

_That nickname… it sounded so familiar… but the only person who had ever called him that was…_

_England nearly dropped his rifle._

" _What…?"_

* * *

After separating from Alfred and England in front of the steak house for a few minutes, Russia took out his phone. Fortunately, there was no one nearby, so he made a call.

"Hello, dhis is Russia," informed the Russian nation. "I need you to look up someone's background for me. His name is Alfred F. Jones and he has a brother name Matthew. I vant you to find any information on dhese two brodhers and I mean _everything_. Try starting from Ontario, Canada, and go from dhere…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> The game Alfred was playing is not Overwatch, but it is a game based off the idea of Overwatch. I don't play Overwatch, but my brother and friends do so I kinda know the gist of how the game works and some of the characters. I love the idea that Overwatch is a mix of fantasy and scifi with variety of races and Heroes/Villains characters you can play as.
> 
> By the way, I'm not a AmericaxCanada shipper... but Kristy is. *somewhere in a darkroom, Kristy is typing a BL fanfic of her coworker and his brother together on her laptop while chuckling creepily*


	12. Chapter 11

A few days had passed since Alfred's suspension and Matthew had been busy at work all day. He worked extra shifts to help cover for the expenses during that period. It was exhausting at first, but he started to get used to it. At least it was only temporary until his brother was back at work.

When his older brother told him how he met the Russian by chance on the street. Matthew wasn't pleased to hear that Alfred abused the man's kindness for a free meal by eating as many steak as he could. It was nothing more than a childish and pitiful revenge for the suspension. Matthew didn't even want to know how much the bill was. Knowing his brother's eating habits, it wasn't a pretty number.

On another note, after he walked Kristy home the day before, the girl finally reported to the cops about a possible stalker. Though the police didn't find it to be a serious issue, they at least dispatched one officer to watch over her. Matthew could even spot the police car outside the cafe's window.

Time passed by at _The Little Garden_ cafe and Matthew was tending to the flowers in the shop. He watered the potted plants and changed the water for the ones in the vases. He made sure to look for any wilted or dead flowers to take out so the batch would look beautiful and fresh. After he was finished with that, he decided to start arranging flowers into bouquets. He brought out a few bucket of freshly cut flowers with soft colors like pink, light orange, and white to the counter so he could arrange them.

It was around that time when a familiar figure entered the store and the store bell chimed.

_Ding!_

" _Bonjour, Matthieu!_ It vas such a beautiful day soI decided to return to this lovely cafe again," Francis greeted him with a brilliant smile that caused all the female customers in the cafe to turn and stare at the Frenchman with great interest. Even some of the guys stared at the man, but for a different reason.

"Mr. Bonnefoy, good afternoon," Matthew replied back. "It's nice to see you again."

"Did I hear _Bonnefoy?!_ " Kristy cried out as she flew out from the kitchen and scanned the room for the Frenchman. Her eyes lit up immediately upon spotting the gorgeous foreigner. "Ah! Francis! You're back! Matthew, scoot! I'm taking his order!" Upon saying that, she shoved Matthew to the side to place herself behind the counter. "What would like to order this time, Francis? Would you like a recommendation?"

" _Bonjour_ , Kristy. It's nice to see your lovely face as vell," Francis greeted the girl with seductive smirk. "You're still as beautiful as the last time I saw you."

Kristy giggled at his comment and replied back, "And you're still a gentleman as ever."

If these two were going to flirt, they could at least have some decency and flirt somewhere else, where their customers couldn't see them.

After a good few minutes of flirty comments and winks being sent between the two, Francis finally made his order. Rather than a light lunch, it was more of a light snack consisting of a slice rose cake and a hot lavender tea. While Kristy skipped into the kitchen to get the cake, Matthew put down the flowers he was arranging and went to wash his hands to make the tea.

"So _Matthieu_ , 'ow 'ave you been doing?" Francis asked. "Busy vith vork?"

"Yes, I work full-time. It's usually peaceful in the cafe, but there're always something to do," Matthew replied as he dried his hands with a towel. Then he grabbed one of the glass jars filled with variety of dried tea leaves that were placed in a neat row beside him.

"It must be nice vorking in such a lovely and peaceful place like this," Frances commented.

"It is," Matthew scooped up some dried lavender tea from the jar and into a teapot. "What about you, Mr. Bonnefoy? What have you been up to, eh?"

"Nothing much," answered Francis, watching the Canadian work. "Just vandering around town and talking vith the residence 'ere."

"What about your friends? Colleagues?" wondered Matthew. "Don't you guys spend time together?"

Francis chuckled as if he found his question amusing. "I vouldn't say ve are friends, but ve do know each other for a very _long_ time. Unfortunately, ve vere never very close to begin vith. Especially Arthur. 'E normally can't stand to 'ave me around, but vhen it comes to business, 'e tolerates me."

"Really, eh? You two seemed to be fine when you guys came together that day," recalled Matthew, surprised.

" 'E 'ad something on 'is mind that day, so 'e vasn't in the mood to bark at me," explained the French man. "It happens occasionally, so I try to 'elp lighten 'is mood."

"That's really nice of you. I can't imagine why anyone won't get along with you," Matthew poured hot water into the pot.

" _Merci_ ," smiled Francis. "Arthur and I don't get along normally due to our 'istory… and I can get a bit… too intimate at times, but I do 'appened to be from the nation of love after all. Intimacy is in our nature."

Matthew didn't even bother commenting on that. He knew a lot of French people before, but most weren't flirty like Francis here. Besides, he knew other non-French that were flirty as well. It was like saying British people only drink tea and Germans were always serious.

"Got your rose cake, Francis!" Kristy came bursting out from the kitchen with a slice of pink cake with rose shaped frosting on the side and a few red rose petals sprinkled around the plate. The petals were from specially grown roses to be the edible kind so it was safe to eat them.

Francis took a table near the counter for Kristy to place the dessert in front of him.

" _Bon appetit!_ " Kristy said before returning to the kitchen to clean up.

It wasn't long when Matthew finished the tea, pouring it into a large cup and placed it on the French man's table. The calming aroma of the lavender scent smelled wonderful.

"Such a lovely scent," Francis took a whiff of the smell.

"Yes, most of the tea blends in the cafe are actually made from the flowers and herbs we have," Matthew said. "I guess it would be considered handmade."

"Handmade tea? That sounds impressive," praised Francis, amazed. "I didn't think American cafes still make their own tea blends. I thought they only buy factory-made these days."

"We just like to be a little unique."

"Do you make them or someone else does?" Francis asked with interest.

"I learned to make a few since I worked here," replied Matthew. "But Kristy can make more than a dozen of the blends and a couple of them was her own creation so the manager added it to the menu."

"Really? Now _that_ is definitely impressive."

Suddenly, Kristy appeared next to the Canadian without a sound.

"I heard my name. What were you guys talking about? Not gossiping about me, are you?" demanded Kristy.

"Jesus! Kristy, where did you…? No, we weren't gossiping. I was telling him about the tea we make here are handmade," explained Matthew after calming himself down. He thought he was going to get a heart attack there. He didn't even hear her coming out of the kitchen.

"Oh that? Yeah, most of them we make it here since we do have flowers and stuff, but the rest we buy from the store. We do have some of the tea that have special ingredients that can't be found in ordinary markets, so we have to buy them from a specialty shop somewhere in Chinatown. The first time I went there, nearly ran out within five seconds. There was this huge jar made of glass and inside was a bunch of pickled lizard or something. Might've been a salamander. I'm not sure. But it still scared me half to death when I first saw it. It was like right at the front of the store when you enter," recalling Kristy. Upon remembering that memory, she got goosebumps and shivered. "Ugh, probably the freakiest thing I've ever seen."

Matthew coughed a little from trying to hold back a laugh. He's been to several China towns before and knew what kind of store she was talking about. The kind of ingredients that Chinese considered to have medicinal properties were very exotic and… bizarre.

Alfred didn't like those places very much. He would complain about the smell and how gross it was. He almost teared up when he saw a whole sack full of dried seahorses once. Don't get him started on the pickled snakes and scorpions. Alfred nearly broke down the door on the way out. Sure, they hunted in the wild before but seeing their corpse on display like that was somewhat disturbing.

For their cafe, they didn't use such ingredients. They only buy the dried plants like ginseng and peach blossoms. Matthew was quite sure that they would scare their customers if they had tea made from sea slugs or bear feet.

"Believe me vhen I say I've seen many strange things in China vhen I traveled there," chuckled Francis.

"If it's China, I can definitely believe it," joked Kristy.

"You travel a lot, eh?" asked Matthew, curious. "Where have you been to so far?"

"Oh, I've traveled to many countries in my lifetime," answered Francis. "Unfortunately, it's too many to count."

"Okay, when you say it like that, you sound old… and super _rich_. What's your job again?" Kristy asked.

"Kristy!" Matthew stared at her harshly. "Don't you know any decent manners?"

"I wasn't being serious… _maybe_ ," Kristy said the last part in a whisper.

Francis chuckled, finding these two duos to be hilarious to watch. With such two distinctly different personalities act like this was a nice entertainment.

"Vhat about you two? 'Ave you ever traveled?" asked the French.

"I visit my family in South Korea once or twice a year for a month," answered Kristy. "Oh and I also did a summer exchange program a year ago in Italy. Went there for a month. It was fun!"

"I've traveled to Canada with my brother. We go back and forth from America to Canada quite often," replied Matthew. "We've also visited Europe before for a while. We went to a few countries here and there. Britain, Germany, and such. Alfred went to a few Asian countries as well."

"Okay WHAT!? How the hell did you managed to travel so much when you two can only afford an apartment? Where'd you get the muns?!" demanded Kristy.

"Um… working and saving money?" Matthew replied, trying to come up with a good lie.

It was true that he traveled with Alfred to Europe and Asia before, but this was during World War II. After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Alfred was determined to join the Pacific war. That was when Alfred became war obsessed or something because he also joined the war in Korea. Matthew was honestly worried for his older brother's state of mind during that time. Alfred was constantly boasting about how America was the best and how it was their duty to fight for the greater good. After the Korean war, Alfred actually changed and became sick of war. So when America declared war against Vietnam, both Matthew and Alfred moved to Canada to escape it. It was also that time that Alfred _really_ made a bizarre change. From a war crazy patriot to a peace loving hippie.

Each decade, Alfred tend to change his fashion senses, music genres, and behavior, depending on the trends of that time. One period, he would be using a lot of hair products like hair spray and hair gels. Then there was another period when he would dress up like a punk with his black leather jacket and strange obsession for rock music, but nothing could beat the hippie time.

Now that was some stressful period for Matthew. Alfred would be wearing those colorful dyed shirts and would let his hair grow out. Though it felt weird, Matthew was fine with Alfred letting his hair grow, but he would not stand it if his older brother wouldn't take care of it properly. Alfred would go on for days without bathing and he would smell like garbage and weed. It was frustrating when Matthew tried to make Alfred take a bath. He even locked his brother out once and threaten him to take a bath or he was going to sleep outside.

And you know what he did?

He actually slept outside in the park with the homeless folks… Matthew was done. He had to wait it out until Alfred came to his senses and clean himself up. Matthew could still remember the smell of weed that would come off of his brother's long unkept hair. It was terrible. Thank god he cut it off. It looked like a jungle. Who knew what had been living in there with him sleeping outside.

Back to the present…

After Francis finished his food, he still stayed a while to talk with him and Kristy. He seemed to really like their company. Especially Matthew, for some reason.

Just when the French was leaving, the man walked to the floral side of the store and picked out a couple of flowers: a light red carnation and a yellow rose.

"I vould like to get these two, please," Francis said as he walked back to the cashier.

"Of course!" Kristy rushed to the cashier.

Once Francis paid for the two flowers, he handed the light red carnation to Kristy and said, "A flower of beauty for a beautiful girl."

" _Oh my_ ," Kristy blushed, a wide smile growing on her face. "Thank you, _Monsieur Bonnefoy_."

"And this rose…," Francis handed the yellow rose to Matthew. "… Is a sign my friendship."

"… oh—uh, t-thank you," Matthew stuttered from surprise and took the rose unconsciously. He kinda expected the French to give the girl a flower, but never did he think he too would be given one as well. This was a complete surprise for him.

"And vith this, I bid _adieu,_ " Francis bowed and winked at them before leaving through the front door.

_Ding!_

Both Kristy and Matthew both stared at the door where the Frenchman left and then back at the flowers in their hands. Kristy was practically eyeing the carnation like it was a gem given to her by an angel. Matthew on the other hand, didn't know what to feel. How was a man supposed to react when given a rose by another man?

"Matthew…" Kristy gave him a dirty look.

"W-what?" He stared at her, confused.

"I can't believe you're cheating! I'm calling Alfred that you're two timing him with a hot French man!" she accused him before getting her phone out. "Damn it! I don't know his number! Mattie! Tell me his number so I can rat you out!"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! KRISTY! STOP IT WITH YOUR TWISTED FANTASIES!"

* * *

About two hours after Francis left, Kristy had to leave early because of a dentist appointment, so Matthew took over her job and was left working alone in the cafe.

Well, there was nothing he could do. At least it was a slow day for him.

_Ding!_

"Mattie! I'm here!" came a familiar loud voice.

Matthew didn't even need to look to see who it was. "Al, how many times have I told you to not shout? What are you doing here anyways, eh?"

"I got bored after marathoning through Game of Royals season 5 and wanted to see my favorite bro at work," answered Alfred. "So you don't mind if I hang out, right?"

"Only if you behave and not disturb the customers," Matthew gave his older brother a serious look. "Just find a seat. I'll get you something."

"Sweet! Free food!" cheered Alfred.

"It's coming out of your wallet," informed Matthew.

"What?! Nooooo!"

"You don't need to be so dramatic. You can't come to a cafe and expect to just sit around without buying anything."

"Then just give me coffee."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Surprise me!"

"Seriously?… Fine…"

Five minutes later…

Matthew handed his brother a mug of hot coffee and watched closely to see if Alfred could guess what coffee it was. Alfred took a whiff of the pleasant aroma coming from the mystery coffee in his hand before taking a sip.

"Mmmmm. With this much milk, it must be latte, but it has this flowery scent to it," noted Alfred. "Must be a special menu thing of the cafe, right?"

"That's correct," confirmed Matthew.

"And this flower scent… is it… not rose… jasmine?" guessed Alfred.

"Wow, you guessed it right," confirmed Matthew, impressed. "It's called Jasmine coffee latte. It's a pretty new menu we have now."

"I like it!" Alfred sipped some more at that.

Alfred was the type to try out any new coffee since he was a coffee freak. He loved experimenting with different brews and coming up with new ones out of curiosity. When he found a strange or unique coffee on the menu, Alfred was not afraid to try it out. He probably tried about a hundred types of coffee drinks in his life time. Matthew remembered Alfred mentioning that he got into coffee when Britain taxed their tea at a ridiculous price and the Boston Tea Party happened. Alfred actually took part in that incident too.

The rest of the day went by with no problem and fortunately, Alfred was well behaved the whole time. Though there were times when Al would get friendly and talkative with the university students that come by to hang out after classes. Since his brother looked like he was around their age and he had this lively personality about him, he easily got along well with the students.

At least, his brother had other people to talk to besides him so Matthew could work with ease.

A good number of hours passed and it was finally closing time. All the customers left and it was only Matthew and Alfred in the cafe. Matthew had to clean up everything from washing dishes to cleaning the tables to checking the cashier. Usually, Kristy would be helping him clean up, but since she had to leave early, Matthew had to do it alone.

Unable to sit still patiently, Alfred asked to help out so they can go home faster. Matthew already cleaned the tables so he asked his brother to help put up the chairs so he could mop later after he was done with washing the dishes.

"Is there anything else I can help?" asked Alfred, once he was done with putting up all the chairs on the table.

"Well, there's throwing away the trashes outback in the dumpsters," Matthew thought out loud. "You don't mind doing that, do you?"

"If it means getting home faster, than tell me where that dirty trashes are and I'll dispose of them. No remains will be left behind."

"They're in the kitchen next to the backdoor," told Matthew. "I already tied them up so you just have to throw them into the dumpsters behind the cafe. Make sure to throw them in the right ones. The white bags are recycled. The green ones are plants so they go into the organic waste. The black ones are trash. Got it?"

"Yep! White is recycles, green is plant stuff, and black is just trash. Pretty easy to remember." With that, Alfred dashed through the kitchen door. "Here I come, you dirty trash! Captain Planet is here to whoop your ass the eco friendly way!"

Matthew coughed a chuckle at this. He couldn't help but smile a little at his older brother's childish behavior. Alfred might be a bit immature at times and even cause trouble, but there were moments like this that Matthew felt that he could rely on his brother. Alfred didn't mind helping him when he needed it and Matthew really appreciated Alfred's helpfulness. It was in his brother's nature to help people and that was what Matthew loved about him.

Alfred always loved being the hero after all.

* * *

Seeing the size of the trash bags that were lined up before him made Alfred wonder how much garbage were thrown away on a daily basis. There were two white bags, one green bag, and three black bags. Each of them looked like they were about to burst if he were to carry it wrong.

"Damn! For a small cafe, they sure have a lot more trash than I thought," Alfred complained out loud. "Well, no time for dilly dallying. The trash bags aren't gonna throw away themselves."

He grabbed all the bags with both his hands to finish this in one go. But with both hands busy carrying the bags, he had to use his back to push the door open. Fortunately, the door had a push bar, so Alfred didn't have a dilemma about whether he should just kick down the door or not. If he were to kick down the door, it would most likely break away from its hinds and he'll be in trouble for it.

The back of the cafe was a small alley with three dumpsters lined up on the wall. Each dumpsters had a symbol on them to let people know which trash went where. Of course, the recycle would have the recycle symbol. The one for the organic stuff would have a leaf symbol on it while the trash was an eaten apple to symbolize food waste and other non-recyclable trash.

But while Alfred was throwing the bags into the dumpsters, he didn't notice that something in the shadows started to move behind him. A figure slowly creeped out from its hiding place and quietly went up to the blonde from behind. The figure also carried a long object in his hand.

Unaware of the coming threat, Alfred had his guard down when he threw another bag into the dumpster. It had never occurred to the American that even in a quiet and peaceful street like this that anything bad could happen.

The figure raised the long object in his hand high into the air. With one hard and quick swoop, he struck Alfred on the back of his head, knocking the young man forward. There was a loud whack when the weapon hit his skull and the force smacked Alfred into the metal surface of the dumpster with a loud bang.

The racket echoed through the alley and inside the buildings nearby.

Dazed and confused at what just happened, he dropped to the hard cement floor, moaning in pain. If he was a normal human, he would've blacked out and most likely got a broken skull, but Alfred was anything but normal. Though the back of his head was bleeding, there was more blood coming from his nose. Most likely a broken nose from the impact on the dumpster, but his fast healing body would have it fixed in seconds.

Before his body could heal, Alfred was hit from behind, on his back.

"Argh!" Alfred cried out in shock and pain.

Alfred readied himself for the next attack.

But the third attack never came.

There was a sound of something like a plank being thrown to the ground and footsteps fading away. The attacker had fled, leaving Alfred both injured and dazed from this unprovoked ambush.

"What the fuck!" Alfred cried out in frustration.

"Alfred! What happened? I heard a loud racket and… OH MY GOD! ALFRED! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" demanded Matthew.

He came out to check on his brother when he heard loud noises from the back and wondered what happened. He didn't expect to find his brother on the floor, injured. Matthew ran to his brother's side and inspected the wounds. The body was already healing itself, because the wound had already covered up with a new layer of skin. Though, there were still blood stains in his hair and clothes.

"Alfred! What happened here?" Matthew demanded again.

"I got ambushed," replied Alfred. "Damn fucking bastard came from behind!"

"But why? Was it a mugging?"

"I don't think so. If the bastard wanted money, he would've already taken my wallet after the first hit, but he didn't," told Alfred. "He hit me twice before he ran. Whatever his intention was, I don't think he was planning to rob me."

"Still! Why did he attack you, eh? Did you piss someone off or something?" thought Matthew.

"No… I don't think I so… I'm quite sure I didn't piss anyone off so bad that they'll assault me like this," gathered Alfred. "This is a crime! Damn it! I should've taken a look at his face so I can report the bastard to the police!"

"Alfred, you know we can't do that," reminded Matthew. "If we report him, the police would want to see your injuries and you know as well as I do that you won't have any by the time the police checked your body."

"Shit! Fucking damn it!" cursed Alfred, punching the ground in frustration.

"Come on, Al. Let's get inside," urged Matthew, worried that the attacker might still be around. "We need to get you clean up. You're not hurt anywhere are you?"

"Besides my pride, no," answered Alfred, feeling bitter that he could get ambushed like that. "I think my body already got my injuries all fixed up seconds ago."

"Good," sighed Matthew, relieved. "Do you still want me to help you get up?"

"I'm good," Alfred turned down his offer. With that, he got up slowly on his own. "My ego is already beaten up as it is. If I can't get on my own two feet, then I might as well throw away whatever that's left of my self-confidence."

Matthew didn't give his brother a hand like he requested, but he still stayed close to him as he lead Alfred back into the kitchen, just in case. No matter how many times Alfred said he was okay, Matthew will always be worried for him.

Why did Alfred get attacked out of nowhere? Was it random or planned? Did Alfred angered someone and the person decided to ambush him behind the cafe? Did the person know Alfred would be coming out from the back? How could they tell it was Al when the back of the cafe was dark at this time? It was barely visible in the back.

Was it just a coincident?

All these questions swam around in Matthew's thought, but he was no closer to figuring out an answer. One questions lead to another. The more he thought, the more Matthew got worried. He prayed that whoever the attacker was won't bother them anymore. That this was just a one time deal only. They didn't need anymore trouble as it was. He just wanted to live with his brother in peace!

But as fate had it, their problem was not over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading


	13. Chapter 12

For the next couple of days leading up to the scheduled tour day, Alfred and Matthew were on high alert. After the ambush, the twins had been constantly watching over their shoulders. Fortunately, since Alfred was still on suspension, he would visit Matthew's workplace every day.

The older twin was paranoid that the attacker would come back and come for Matthew next. Since none of them knew the attacker's intention, they didn't know what to expect. Alfred would sit at a table with a suspicious look as he stared at every customer that walked in. Matthew tried to get his older brother to calm down to not make the other customers uncomfortable, but even the Canadian would look at the door every time the door chime rang.

Kristy started to notice this strange behavior between the twins after the first half of the day. At first, she thought that Alfred was with his brother because he wanted to be with him at all times. It was not influenced by her weird fantasy at all. Nope. Not at all.

Kristy became suspicious when Alfred glared at customers that walked in as if he was a guard dog and Matthew checked the door every so often with a cautious look. But when she tried to demand answers from the twins, Alfred kept his mouth shut when Matthew threw him a hard eyed look. They didn't want to come up with another cover story about how Alfred healed from being hit with a wooden plank to the head. There was no bruise or scar to prove his injuries, so it was better kept a secret. Matthew told Kristy that they just encountered some bad people yesterday and became paranoid. Of course, nothing happened because Alfred drove them away.

It was a lie, but it was better than the truth.

When the day Alfred returned to work, the American could no longer hang out at the cafe anymore. He also had a tour to prepare, so he got up early to get to the museum.

"Morning, ya'll! Miss me?" Alfred came bursting into the office loudly.

"Look who's back after taking a break," Fred nodded at him with a smirk.

"Hola, Al," Paul waved. "You have a good break?"

"Hey, Alfred!" Dana greeted with a bright smile. "You look livelier as ever. Not having you around made the museum unusually quiet and lonely. It was almost dull without you."

"Man! It's so good to see you guys again!" grinned Alfred. "I have a tour today for Arthur and his colleagues, so I gotta prepare myself. Dana, do we have any American Revolution uniforms I can borrow?"

"We might have the costume ones for when we have special events," thought Dana. "Should be somewhere in the storage room."

"Sweet!" he cheered before dashing off.

"Oh no you don't! I'm coming with you!" shouted Fred, following behind him. "Like hell I'm going to let you in the storage room alone! What if you break something or hit your head again!"

Both Paul and Dana looked at each other for a second before they laughed at the two men that just left.

"I think I should follow them," told Paul, as he turned to walk after the two.

"Yeah, you go do that," agreed Dana. "Make sure Alfred doesn't cause anything and Fred doesn't try to kill him for it."

* * *

By the time England parked his car in the museum parking lot, Italy, Germany, and Japan were already there and were waiting in front of the entrance.

"Good morning, gentlemen," England greeted them as he walked up.

" _Ciao_ , England," Italy waved at him with enthusiasm.

" _Guten Morgen_ ," Germany nodded.

" _Ohayo_ , England-san," Japan did a slight bow.

"So who's missing? France?" England looked around for the cheese-eating nation.

"Russia is not 'ere yet," informed Italy.

"Did someone call?" Out of nowhere, Russia appeared behind them.

"AH!" They all jumped.

"Russia-san, _ohayo_ ," Japan greeted him out of politeness.

"Honestly, Russia, you could at least appear like a normal decent nation," England gave the Russian a cold stare.

"I apologize, but it vas so tempting," Russia had an innocent smile on his face, but a soft 'koi koi koi koi…' could be heard and poor Italy was shivering behind Germany for protection.

"Now that Russia is here, that leaves that Frog face," England scoffed.

As he said that, he felt something rubbed his behind and he yelped in shock. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!"

"Ohonhonhonhonhon," a chuckle sounded behind the English man. "Your cry is adorable as ever."

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SEXUAL HARASSMENT IN PUBLIC?!" England shouted with a red face.

"So you don't mind it if done privately, yes?" France winked at England.

"NO AND YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!" England retorted back. "GET YOUR PERVERTED HANDS AWAY FROM ME!"

"Uh… can we go inside now?" Italy said from behind Germany. "Everybody is 'ere now, ve?"

"Italy is right," Germany looked at his watch. "Mr. Jones is probably vaiting for us."

The nations filed into the building and went up to the front desk. England made sure he was five feet away from France and his grubby hands as they walked. There was a bounce to his feet when Italy chatted to Germany and Japan like a child on a field trip. For Russia, he kept an innocent smile on his face while looking around, as if he was looking for something.

"Excuse me," England spoke to the lady at the front desk. "We're here for a tour appointment with Alfred F. Jones."

"Ah yes, I heard from Alfred about your tour," replied the lady. "You must be Arthur Kirkland and the rest of you must be... his… group..." Her eyes grew wide when she saw Russia among them and went pale.

Everyone except Russia looked confused and turned to stare at the man.

"Have you two met?" England asked.

"Uh... once...," she replied nervously. "I'll contact Alfred right away that you're all here."

"Thank you, miss," he thanked her with a polite smile.

"Vhat did you do?" Germany questioned the Russian in a whisper.

"I asked to be part of the tour group, da," replied Russia, innocently.

"Are you sure you didn't zhreaten her?" Germany glared at him suspiciously.

"Believe vhat you vant," Russia shrugged. It didn't matter what he did at this point since he got what he wanted.

The lady picked up a walkie talkie and spoke into the device, "Alfred, your tour group is here."

_Pzzt!_

[Copy that! I'm on my way.]

_Pzzt!_

"He should be here in a couple of minutes, Mr. Kirkland," the lady told him with a friendly smile.

"Thank you," England thanked her again before turning to his fellow nations. "I guess we can just relax until he arrives."

The nation talked among themselves and looked around the lobby. Even though it was just the front entrance, there were already many things to look at. From paintings to old photographs and statues to mannequins. There was also a three-dimensional model of the museum and its land, in which Italy, Japan, and Germany were looking at. Italy found it adorable at how tiny it was while Japan took out his phone and began snapping shots after shots.

France gave the statue of a Colonial General a harsh glare when he noticed Russia standing by the counter by himself. The man didn't seem interested in the historical items around him whatsoever. It was as if he was waiting for something. France found the Russian's behavior to be odd.

"Arthur," France called to England. "Is it just me or is Ivan acting peculiar?"

England stared at him, not sure what he meant, so he turned to look at the Russian man himself. "He's always been odd, so what's the difference now?"

"I'm not very sure, but it feels like 'e is not really interested in the 'istory 'ere, but at something else," France tried his best to explain his thoughts.

"Something else? Like what?" questioned England.

"I'm not sure," admitted France.

"Good morning, guys! I see you're all here and ready to get a grand tour by yours truly!" a familiar loud voice boomed through the lobby. "Now who's excited about learning some American history?"

All eyes turned to the source of the voice and standing at the front desk was none other than the young American, Alfred F. Jones. He stood his navy blue Revolutionary uniform with a puffed chest and a model rifle gun in hand. He didn't wear his glasses, so his sky blue eyes stood out more than usual. Even France found him more attractive than before. Not that his glasses made him unattractive, but his charm went up by a few points with his glasses off. Not to mention, that uniform! The French was starting to get some kinky erotic ideas now.

" _Mon Dieu!_ " exclaimed France. "Such a fine looking young man. Don't you agree, Arthur?... Arthur?"

When France didn't receive a response from the British man, he turned to check on him. What he saw made him stumped.

England had a look of pure shock and confusion on his face. His face was pale and his eyes were wide in disbelief as he stared at the American.

"Arthur? Are you alright, _Angleterre_?" France asked with concern. He hadn't seen England acting like this since… a long time ago.

"H-he... He's..." England stuttered through his words. "The c-colonist... W-why... He looks like... _him_..."

* * *

_Sounds of gunshots and cannons erupted throughout the forest and the air was thick with a mist of gunpowder that came from rifles that soldiers fired. Men in red and blue uniforms were scattered around the forest, dashing around and finding cover while aiming at their enemies. Screams and shouts echoed with the sound of weapons as the men fell one after another._

" _Stand your ground!"_

" _Fire! Show those lobsters what we are made of!"_

" _Aim your cannons!… Fire!"_

Bang! Bang! Bang!

_This was nothing new to an old nation like England, but it was never easy to go through. He had history of war and battles carved into his body, but never was it mentally taxing as this one. This colony he built and cared for as his own was now his enemy. He gave them food, supplies, and new land, yet they fought him._

_For what?_

_To be free of him? To be_ independent?

_Why? Why did they want to separate from him? What did he do wrong? When did everything go wrong?_

_Maybe… If there was the embodiment of the colonies, their representative… maybe… things would've turned out differently._

_Why wasn't there one? Why did one not appear? He had many colonies and had representatives formed from them. Yet, why didn't this one too._

Bang!

_Another gunshot shattered the air and England felt sudden pain in his leg._

" _Argh! Bloody hell!" England cried out as he fell onto his knees, using his rifle to support him. He looked at his leg and found a bloody wound on his thigh. "Those damn ungrateful bastards!"_

_This wound was nothing. He had many wounds in his past and such an injury would only take a short time to heal. But as long as his people were at war, his body would become weaker and exhausted as his people became more strained from their battles. England wanted to be done with this war and prevent the colonies from leaving him, but it was taking much longer than he expected._

_He was Great Britain, damn it! He was the strongest nation in the world! How could a bunch of young colonies put up such a difficult fight?_

_As he was trying to endure the pain of his wound, England suddenly heard footsteps nearby. England looked up in panic. Was the person his soldier or the colonies'?_

_Through the thick white mist of smoke, the nation could make out a figure in a blue garment. It was one of those ungrateful colonists. England quickly aimed his rifle towards the oncoming figure, but it was proving to be difficult when his hands were shaking and his vision was getting clouded by either the smoke or his exhaustion._

" _Damn it all!" he cursed, readying to pull the trigger._

_As the figure got closer, a strange, yet, familiar feeling overcame him. It was enough for him to freeze up in confusion._

_The figure also seemed to have stopped in his place and stared at England as well._

" _Artie?"_

_That name… That familiar sounding name that was once used by only one person…_

_England felt his heart dropped. He could feel the blood draining from his face and his eyes grew wide._

_How… How could it be? It couldn't be… he was dead… he was supposed to be dead! He saw him getting shot before his eyes!_

_Did he somehow survived that gunshot all those years ago?_

_The figure before him started to become clearer as the mist started to thin out. Those familiar golden blonde hair and sky blue eyes…_

" _A-Alfred…?" Arthur muttered with shock and confusion. "How…?"_

_The boy that he once cared for like his own was now a man… a man fighting in this war… a war to get away from him._

" _Arthur? It's really you?" The now older Alfred took a step forward to him. His eyes shown dismay and uncertainty._

" _How are you here?" Arthur demanded, still holding his aim at the colonist. "Why…? Why do you have to fight me?!"_

" _Arthur, wait!" Alfred held up his hands, as if to show he was no threat. "I… I don't want to fight you! Not you!"_

" _Then why are you wearing that blasted blue coat!" accused Arthur. "You're wearing the same damn coat as those ungrateful colonists! You're just like them! I gave you food! I gave you kindness and compassion! And this is how you pay me back?!"_

" _No! That's not it!" Alfred shouted. "We're just tired of being controlled by the monarchy! We just wanted to be free and independent!"_

" _WHY DO YOU NEED TO BE FREE?! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO LEAVE ME!?" Arthur screamed in anguish._

" _Arthur, calm down," begged the boy. "Please…_ Artie _."_

" _NO! YOU LISTEN TO ME!" shouted Arthur. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CALL ME THAT ANYMORE!"_

_A pained and heartbroken expression appeared on the boy's face and it somehow made Arthur feel amazingly gratified._

" _I TREATED YOU LIKE MY OWN FAMILY!" Arthur continued. "Yet, you stab in me in the back like it was nothing."_

" _Arthur…" Alfred now looked horrified at his statement. "That's not—you got it all wrong!"_

" _WHAT DID I GET WRONG, YOU BACKSTABBING…"_

" _ARTHUR! LOOK OUT!"_

_Suddenly, Alfred ran towards Arthur and dived towards him. Arthur didn't have time to process what just happened when there was a loud explosion that blasted his eardrums._

_BOOM!_

* * *

"...thur..."

...

"... Ar... ur...?"

...

"Arthur!"

"Wha...!?" Arthur snapped out of his thoughts and found Alfred looking at him with worry.

"Arthur?" Francis gave him the same concern look.

The other nations were also looking at him. Feliciano looked confused while Ludwig had a raised eyebrow. Kiku, on the other hand, was harder to read with his blank look. Ivan seemed to be curious since he turned to look in England's direction.

"You okay?" Alfred asked. "You look really out of it."

"I'm-I'm fine," Arthur quickly replied. "Are we going to have the tour or not?"

"Uh yeah... sure...," Alfred gave him one last uncertain look before turning to everybody else with a bright smile. "Alright, everyone! No worries. We're all good to go so who's excited for a tour!"

" _Me! Me!_ " Feliciano shouted and waved with enthusiasm.

"Alrighty! Everyone, follow me!" Alfred announced as he turned around. "Our special museum tour can now commence and I, Alfred F. Jones, am your amazing tour guide who will be guiding you through our long American history!"

As Alfred headed down a hallway, Feliciano, Ludwig, and Kiku followed right behind him. Ivan gave one last look at Arthur before following the group as well.

"Arthur, vhat 'appened?" Francis hissed.

"It was nothing," Arthur replied with a soft tone as he started walking. Though, he kept a certain distance from the group.

"That vas not nothing. Who do you take me for?" Francis gave him a serious look as he walked beside the British man.

"I... I just recalled... what _that boy_ , from the colonies, looked like," Arthur admitted. "I thought I forgotten his face a long time ago, but once I saw Alfred in that uniform, it all came back to me. Alfred... he looked just like _that boy!_ "

He was confused at why Alfred looked like _that boy_ from all those years ago. It had been so long ago that his memory of the boy had been fading away. His face and voice had been vanishing from his memory. He can't recall his facial features, but he remembered that he had sky blues and golden blonde hair. The sound of his laughter reminded him of bells and his smile was innocent and pure.

He lost him once at the Incident on King Street, but years later, he appeared to him again, alive and well. But unfortunately, it had to be on the battlefield during the American Revolution and they were on opposing sides.

To think, centuries later, he would see that same face in this present time again.

Was this some kind of reincarnation like in the stories? Was that boy reborn in this timeline again?

"That boy?" Francis gave him a weird look, trying to figure out what he meant. Then a look of realization formed on his face before it turned into bafflement. "You mean the boy from the colonies you used to boast about before..."

"Yes, that's what I'm saying!" Arthur whispered in an annoyed tone, trying to not let the others hear their discussion.

"My _Matthieu_ also looked like the boy from my former colony," the French man pondered out loud. "If Alfred, who is _Matthieu's_ twin brother, also resembled your colonist boy..."

"Not just resemble. He looks just like him!" corrected Arthur.

"... This must be the most outrageous coincident. Vhat are the chances that these boys vould look like our boys from the colony days. Not to mention, are brothers?" questioned Francis.

"Outrageous indeed," agreed Arthur.

To think that Alfred and Matthew had the same appearance of the boys from England's and France's past. It had been so many years. A few centuries even. To see their faces again in this time was as if the past was coming back to him.

What could this all mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Had a lot of stuff going on and I forgot about updating this chapter. Hope you enjoy.

" _... Ar..."_

_He could hear the sound of ringing in his ears as his consciousness came to the surface._

" _... thur... ou... kay?..."_

_Who was that? He could barely hear him through the ringing sound in his head._

" _Ar...thur... an yo... ear me?"_

_He opened his eyes and found a familiar face looking at him in panic. There was dirt and blood... so much blood on his face. Was he injured?_

_He looked around and discovered he had been lying on the ground. Oh right, he was in the forest... fighting... he was at war with the colonist... with Alfred's people..._

" _Thank go... Arthu... re you alrigh...?" Alfred asked with concern. "I nee... to get you ou... of here. You're badly injured."_

_Arthur tried to tell the boy that he was fine. Even if he was injured, he would heal. He just wanted Alfred to leave him be, but he felt so numb and tired that no words came out of his mouth._

" _It's alright," Alfred tried to assure him. He pulled something out of his coat and began wiping a spot on the British's head. It was a handkerchief, a cream colored with red rose embroidery. As he wiped his face, dark red stains started to taint its soft colored fabric. "I was meaning to return this to you after I washed it up, but took longer than I thought. Now, it's all dirty again." He chuckled awkwardly._

_In the distance, they could hear shoutings and Alfred looked up in surprise._

" _My men are coming," he looked away from Arthur. "There's no time to get you out of here."_

_The boy seemed to have spotted something before he suddenly scooped Arthur up into his arms and carried him somewhere. It was a short trip before Alfred laid him down and covered him with a blue coat as a makeshift blanket._

" _The red is too noticeable," Alfred pulled something from above to cover it over the British. It looked like some kind of shrubbery. Alfred was using the shrubbery to conceal him from his men._

" _Stay here and don't make a sound, understand?" Alfred ordered him. "I'll try to lead my men away so they don't find you."_

_Arthur wanted to tell him not to go. He only managed to lift his hands up a little. He wanted to grab onto him, so he wouldn't leave him._

_Alfred must've noticed his plea, because he grasped his hand tightly with his own and said, "I'll come back and get you, alright? So just stay safe until I get back." When he let go, there was something soft and cream colored in Arthur's hand. The boy got up and gave one last smile, before he turned around and dashed off._

Don't go...

_Arthur tried to stretch out his hand._

Don't leave me...

_Alfred's figure started to disappear from his vision._

Please... don't abandon me...

_And that was the last thing he remembered before his consciousness slipped away._

* * *

After that battle, England's men were the ones that found him and brought him back to camp to care for him. It seemed that his men were able to win the battle with the colonists this time and they came to search for any survivors and England, especially.

The war went on and England went back to the battlefields many times, but he never saw the colonist boy ever again. England never knew what happened to him or if he was alive or not. He tried to believe that he was still out there, but years went by and decades passed. He never saw him again and at some point, he had to accept that he was dead. If not from the war, then from old age. A human's lifespan was so short and fleeting compared to a nation's.

Humans always fantasized immortality as some amazing thing they wished to obtain, but for nations, it was a curse that they had no choice but to accept. Such irony.

"…And after the Great Depression, World War II started," Alfred was in the middle of telling his country's history.

At the beginning, they started the tour with how the American continent was founded and colonized. He gave a surprisingly detailed history of the different cultures and tribes of the Native Americans. England had to admit that the boy seemed very informed of the topic for his age. England felt awkward when it came to the events that lead up to the American Revolution, but their young tour guide kept a neutral tone in his explanation throughout the tour so the British Nation didn't feel like he was being portrayed as a villain like most patriots would. He was very thankful for the young American's consideration.

Then they went through the other events like the American Revolution, Louisiana Purchase, Lewis and Clark Expedition, Trail of Tears, Oregon Trail, Gold Rush, Civil War, and World War I. There were other events as well, but these were the ones that stood out to England at the moment.

For each section of the events, there would be a room or exhibit made specifically for it and Alfred would give them ten to fifteen minutes to look around before moving on. There would be models, paintings, antiques, photos, furnitures, parchments, and books displayed for them to look at. There were also miniature models of landscapes and cities to replicate events like the desert canyon that had little wagons and horses for the Oregon Trail. There was even a table that displayed a miniature Civil War battle field with several American soldiers in either Union blue or Confederate grey. Sometimes, England would find some of his own former possessions among them. The British nation couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and delight at the thought that his old properties could help educate the younger generations of humanity rather than catching dust in his storeroom.

They were about finished with the Great Depression and were going into World War II. Unsurprisingly, it was not just England that remembered how it began, but many other countries remembered it clearly as well. Especially, Germany. The Great Depression caused the stock market to crash and many millions or even billions of their people to become unemployed around the world. This affected Germany greatly since he was already dealing with the aftermath of World War I.

"As I mentioned before, during the Great Depression, Germany was already a bad state from World War I, but it became worse during the Great Depression. It was during this time that a man, by the name Adolf Hitler, begun his plan to seize power by using the people's frustration and despair as a fuel. There was no denying that he was amazing in his speech, especially when the German citizens were at their wits end. Hitler's words were like a beacon of hope for them," Alfred lead the group into a large room filled with antiques from World War II. From old posters to antique radios and televisions to old military weapons and uniforms. "We are now in the World War II exhibit. Since we have a group of people representing each nation, I would like to apologize in advance if anything I say sounds offensive or insensitive towards your nation, but please know that I am doing my best to keep my description neutral and unbiased as possible."

"You are doing just fine, lad," assured England. "When you recalled the American Revolution and the events prior to it that had British involvement, I didn't feel offended whatsoever."

"That's good," Alfred smiled with relief at the British nation's word of encouragement.

Most of the nations agreed with England on that. They were already used to the way Americans were boastful and prideful when it came to their history, but so far, Alfred had kept it pretty professional.

"I 'onestly vouldn't be insulted if 'e made 'is country sound like they vere super'eroes," France whispered jokingly to England. " 'ave you seen 'ow they are depicted in their silly comics they love so much?"

"Hush!" England snapped back in a low voice so only his French companion could hear. "He's doing quite splendidly so far so don't let him hear you say that."

"Don't vant me to 'urt your little American boy's feelings?" France continued to tease him.

"I will rip out your tongue and shove it back down your throat if you don't shut your trap!"

As the two European nations bickered among themselves, the other nations had already started to look around the room as Alfred was recounting the second world war story. The nations felt nostalgic upon seeing some old antiques and dead technology from decades ago.

England couldn't help but smile when he spotted an old bulky computer. He remembered using those old contraptions, but now they had thin and flat screen computers that didn't eat so much space on his desk and laptops that were convenient for carrying around. Technology had evolved so far so fast in the last century, even more for an immortal being like him.

Japan was observing the miniature airplane models with fascination. He was always a fan of tiny models so he collected a large amount of them as a hobby. Germany on the other hand, spotted a propaganda poster portraying the Nazis and Germany as being villains. The German nation had a hard look on his face and turned away from the poster before joining Japan in the plane models section.

"These are very fine moderus," complimented Japan.

"It is," Germany agreed. His eyes looked through the models and recognized some German aircrafts. This brought a sense of nostalgia as he remembered the war days when he fought in the war as a pilot. He was known for being both fearless and bold in the air battles. His enemies feared his amazing talent to fight in the sky and his men admired him for it. Germany had flew into battle many times and never been taken down… until the Americans joined the war.

At first, he fought with many American warplanes, but he would come out victorious. There were Canadians as well, but to Germany, America was the real threat. Germany thought he could never lose when it came to battles in the sky, but his belief came crashing down when he was ambushed by two fighter planes…

* * *

_[General Ludvig, zhere are British aircrafts coming tovards us,] a german pilot reported over the radio._

" _Stay on course," he ordered his soldiers. "Ve'll take zhem down like ve alvays do. How many are zhere?"_

_[Squadron, sir]_

" _Zhat's not bad. Ve have more in numbers," Germany said with confidence. "Zhis vill be anozher easy victory. Now prepare for battle! Ve are going in!"_

_[_ Jawohl! _]_

_It wasn't long until they clashed with the British air forces and Germany was shooting them out of the sky one after another. Just when he felt confident that they were going to win, one of his soldiers yelled through the radio in panic._

_[Sir! Zhere is unidentified plane attacking our forces and— AAAAHHH—_ Pzzt! _]_

_The radio was suddenly cut off. Germany was stunned and started to look around for the said plane. He was only able to spot one of his German planes falling towards the earth with a trail of black smoke behind it._

"Was zum Donnerwetter! _" Germany gasped._

_[Zhere are planes coming out of novhere and taking out our forces, sir! I believe zhis is an ambush!—GAAA—_ Pzzt! _]_

_Another two German planes got shot down._

" _Shit!" Germany shouted in frustration. Where was this mysterious plane coming from?!_

_He looked left and right, trying to hunt down the craft, but there were so many German and British planes that he had a hard time spotting for the one he was looking for. But when he looked up, right where the sun was located, he spotted something moving at break neck speed. A fighter plane came flying out of the sun, using the bright sunlight behind it to blind its enemies for a moment and shoot down one of his German planes from above._

_Just as the craft dived down from the sky, Germany was able to make out what the craft looked like. The first thing he noticed was a blue eagle and star painted on the side. From the look of the plane model, it was an American fighter plane!_

" _It's an American plane!" Germany shouted through the radio for his men to hear. "Das Americans are ambushing us! Keep your eyes open and find if zhere are more of zhem!"_

_[I need back up! I have an unidentified plane on my tai—it got me! I have been hi—_ Pzzt! _]_

" _Anozher one!?" Germany cried out in shock. Now he was starting to panic. Where were these planes coming from? Was it another American plane? He searched around again for the other enemy aircraft._

_He turned around just in time to see the said craft chasing another German plane by its tail. The German pilot tried every maneuver to get the enemy plane off its back, but the newcomer just kept on chasing while firing bullets at it._

_This craft was the same American model, but unlike the blue eagle and star on the American craft, this one had a red goose and a maple leaf on it._

_Even though, it was just two aircrafts, they were already taking out his men like flies. What if more of them were coming? This wasn't looking good. Germany hated the idea of defeat, but at this rate, his whole force would be wiped out._

_Once the plane with the red goose took down another of his German planes, Germany finally went after it and tried to shoot it down. Unfortunately, it was able to dodge all his bullets with its impressive maneuvers._

_Tried as he might, Germany couldn't seem to hit it. This frustrated the German nation greatly. While he was so distracted with trying to shoot down the red goose aircraft, Germany didn't notice another plane coming at him from above until the last second._

_Germany looked up in time to see the blue eagle fighter plane flying out of the sun, momentarily blinding the German nation. Then it fired down a rain of bullets._

_He was hit._

_The engine blew up and the plane's wings were severely damaged. He lost control of his plane and the aircraft went diving towards the earth below._

* * *

After Germany fell from the sky, he crashed into a remote forest with fatal injuries that would have killed a man. He 'died' that day, but being an immortal being, he just merely regenerated himself after a certain amount of time. He had to walk himself back to his own troops after coming back from the dead and reported to his superior, Adolf Hitler. Germany also found out that his men was almost wiped out after he was taken down. From what he was told, more enemy planes arrived on the battlefield as back up and took out most of his German flyers. Only five were able to make it back after a bitter retreat.

Since then, Germany had been trying to find those two fighter planes and acquire as much information on them as possible. The information he was able to gather was that the two fighter planes were named the "Blue Eagle" and the "Red Goose." The pilot of the Blue Eagle was an American, not much of a surprise for the German. But the Red Goose was a Canadian, which he didn't expect. Those two planes were often found in many air battles, fighting alongside each other like a perfect duo. The Blue Eagle was known for its surprise attacks and using the sun to blind its enemies. The quick and unexpected attacks were nothing to laugh about. On the other hand, the Red Goose tended to chase its enemies by the tail and take them down from behind. No matter how hard one tried to out maneuver the Canadian pilot, the Red Goose was stubborn and would chase one down until one was blown out of the sky.

Unfortunately, the names of the pilots were never discovered. After the war, they just simply disappeared as if they didn't exist. Germany never found out who they were and he honestly regretted it. Even though they were enemies, as a fellow pilot, Germany had to admire their amazing piloting skills.

"I see you two like planes too," Alfred walked up to the two former Axis power nations. "Any specific models you like more? I'm a fan of bomber and fighter planes."

"I favoru the _Kawasaki_ and _Kawanishi_ pranes," replied Kiku. "I have many moderus of them back home."

"Oh yeah! Japan is big on miniature models," Alfred beamed.

"Do you by any chance have information on individual planes and zheir pilots?" asked Ludwig.

"Individual planes?" Alfred gave him a confused look. "Not sure If I understand what you mean by that."

"Have you heard of das Blue Eagle and Red Goose?" Ludwig inquired. Though, he didn't have high hopes of the young American to know of those two mysterious planes and the men that piloted them.

"Oh! Those two! Yeah, I know them," Alfred smiled.

Germany honestly did not expected that. "You do?"

"Yep! The blue eagle was flown by an American and the Red Goose was a Canadian pilot," told Alfred.

Ludwig's hope deflated in disappointment at that. He already knew that type of information. He already guessed it from the paint job the planes had.

"The Blue Eagle pilot likes surprise attacks and would use the sun to his advantage while the Red Goose was more of a chaser. Ya know, like a goose? Those savage birds are like demons with feathers and would chase you down like rapid dogs! Ugh… Never anger a goose. EVER," Alfred emphasize the last part with a very serious look.

The American's face turned pale when he was talking about the geese. He must've had bad memories with those ferocious avian animals.

"The pilots also happened to be brothers, so they always go into battle with each other. You can never have one without the other. They always stick together like glue," Alfred added.

Now this was something that Ludwig didn't know and it caught the German nation's attention. "Zhey vere brozhers?"

"Yep. Twins to be more specific," explained Alfred. "If you're wondering why they were twin brothers with different nationalities, it's because they were separated when they were young and ended up with different citizenships. But they got reunited and were together ever since."

"Zhat is quite interesting," Ludwig took note of that.

That was when Feliciano hopped into their conversation. "What are you talking about, ve? I 'eard somet'ing about brodhers and twins."

"Alfred-san was informing us about two pilots that flew the Blue Eagle and Red Goose," Kiku told the Italian.

"Blue Eagle? Red Goose?" Feliciano cocked his head to the side. The names sounded familiar, but he couldn't remember where he heard them.

"Zhey vere das two planes zhat sho—I vas interested in," Germany quickly fixed his sentence. He was about to say 'the two planes that shot him down,' but changed it since there was a non-nation among them.

"Ve? So what does dhis 'ave anyt'ing to do widh twin brodhers?" wondered the Italian.

"The pirots were twins," informed Japan. "But with different nationalities. One was American and the other Canadian."

"Oh! Dhat sounds like Alfred and 'is brother, Matthew, no?" Feliciano said with excitement at this thought. "You know, since Alfred is American and Matthew is Canadian. What a coincident! Is dhat why you know about dhem? Dhey 'ave similar background like you and your brodher so you studied dhem a lot, no?"

When the Italian said that, Alfred froze and little speck of sweat begun running down his face, but it went unnoticed by the nations. "Yeah… That's right. Them being American and Canadian brothers was what got me looking them up."

"You don't happen to know zheir names, do you?" asked Ludwig. "Or any ozher background information?"

"Their names? Oh I don't know their names." Alfred answered with a shaky voice while his eyes darted as if he was looking for something in panic. "That's all I know about them, so sorry about that. Hey, do you guys want to see the old photos from the war? They're right over there next to the old recruiting posters. Looks like Ivan is already checking them out, so let me check on him if he has any questions."

The American tour guide was quick to change the topic, still in panic before dashing off to where the Russian nation was.

"That was… peculiar," said Kiku.

" _Si_ ," nodded Feliciano.

Ludwig agreed that the young American was acting a little strange, but he just brushed it off as nothing since the American was already odd in his own way.

* * *

After escaping from that slight slip up, Alfred headed towards the Russian, who was staring at the old photos. The old photographs were placed on a large board with a glass cover covering it for protection.

That was a pretty close call. Alfred got a bit too excited when Ludwig asked about his past military achievements during the second World War and got ahead of himself. He nearly jeopardized his and his brother's secret. He really needed to be more cautious with what he said.

"So, Ivan, you enjoying the tour so far?" Alfred asked as he went to stand beside the Russian.

"It vas very interesting and informative," Ivan complimented. "Not as offending as dhe last time ve discussed about our nations, yes?"

"Oh that… yeah, sorry about that time," Alfred scratched behind his head in awkwardness.

"I already said it vas my fault for provoking you, so you do not need to apologize," Ivan waved his hand. "So about dhese photographs. Are you familiar vith any of dhese?"

"Familiar, huh? Let me see," the young American looked through the old photographs.

Many of these photos were of soldiers and civilians. There were also photos of cities and towns, both in the United States and in Europe. Though Alfred himself didn't know most of them, but he did recognized a good number of them as places he had been and even spotted a few familiar faces. They were soldiers he met and befriended during the time he was in the military. He made many friends and fought alongside them on the battlefields, but most of them never came back from the war. There were many bittersweet memories, but he would never regret the times he spent with them.

"This photo was taken from Omaha Beach when the 2nd Infantry Division troops were going up the bluff while carrying equipment to Saint-Laurent-sur-Mer in 1944," Alfred pointed to a photo of American soldiers walking up a hill. "This one is a group photo of senior American commanders of the European theater. There're William H. Simpson, George S. Patton, Carl A. Spaatz, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Omar Bradley…"

"Vhat about dhese photos?" Ivan cut him off and pointed to a group of photos of pilots.

One photo was of a pilot standing beside his fighter plane with a proud composure. Another was of three men sitting on some cargo and staring at the camera. A third was another pilot, but he was sitting in his plane with a lively smile. The fourth was a group photo of a bunch of pilots with a couple of bomber planes in the background.

The last one, Alfred recognized right away.

It was a photo of his squadron when they arrived in Africa to prepare to invade Sicily and Italy. They were supposed to help with air cover for the ground soldiers during the invasion. His squadron were a bunch of young white and black men, who joined the war for a variety of reasons from gaining fame, getting a girl, wanting some thrill, protecting their country, and doing it for family honor.

Though, the photo was supposed to be a group photo, Alfred and Matthew were not in it. This was due to the brothers being sent on a small mission for a a few days. Their fellow squadron members took this photo when a photographer just happened to visit the base while the two brothers were not there.

"These photos are about the Thunderbird fighter squadron," the American veteran answered with ease. "They were a squadron of young brave men, both of white and black. They were known for sneak attacks and took down hundreds of Nazi planes during their time. Though, not without some lost on the way. Their first mission was in Africa to help chase out Nazis in those countries and then later invaded Sicily and Italy."

"Dhey seem to get along from vay dhey are together. Yet, dhey are of different skin color," thought Ivan. "If my memory serves me right, vasn't America having issues vith racism vithin country and dheir military during dhat time?"

"Well, yeah, I can't deny that African Americans and other races were getting the bad end of the sticks, but the war showed that no matter what skin color you are, we're all still human. No matter if it's fear, despair, joy, or anger, everyone has it. Everyone is equal in that. Especially, when it comes to death, so we have to stick together if we want to survive," Alfred said with a distant gaze. "It was awkward at first and there were some stupid fights, but after their first battle, they became closer. That's when they realized that they're a team and death can take any of them anytime so we have to have each others' back to get through those hard times."

Talking about the guys back in the World War II days brought back some fond memories for the American. "There was this guy named Branden, who was a jerk at first and would insult the African American members a lot. He and Torrel would have shouting matches several times a everyday, but after a few missions together, they became drinking buddies. They still threw insults at each other, but it was more of friendly jabs then anything malicious. Then there was Edward, but his friends would call him Eddie. He was a bit cocky, but he was also a comedian and he liked to mess with people when he played poker. He was damn good at it too. Jeffry and Alex were more serious type. They would wake up early in the morning to work out and run laps around the base."

"You seem to know dhem quite vell…" the Russian smiled.

"I guess," Alfred scratched his chin in embarrassment. "I'm a real history fanatic after all."

"Yet, vay you described dhem is as if you knew dhem personally," a strange smirk started to form on the Russian's face. "You know dheir dynamics very vell… a bit too vell if you don't mind me saying."

Alfred felt his heart dropped to his stomach.

"W-what are you talking about?" Alfred tried to laugh it off. "I just happened to really s-study on them a lot, that's all. How could I know them personally? Most of them had already passed away and I wouldn't know if the rest are even alive or not."

"Is dhat so?" Ivan still had that mysterious smile on his face. "Dhen how did you acquire such detailed and personal information like dhat?"

Alfred felt his back sweating. He couldn't have known, could he? There was no way Ivan could know that Alfred was there and was part of that Squadron. This was several decades ago!

Think Alfred! Think! How should he get out of this?!

"What are you two discussing?" Another voice cut in.

It was Arthur and following behind him was Francis.

"Is there a problem?" Arthur asked, looking from Ivan to Alfred with suspicion. He was especially glaring at the Russian with hardened eyes.

"Oh! We were just talking about the photos," Alfred pointed to the old photographs.

"Yes, Mr. Jones here has been telling me in great detail about dhese pilots," Ivan smiled innocently as if he didn't notice the glare the British man was sending him.

"Was that really all?" Arthur questioned once more to be sure.

"Yeah, that was really it so did you guys have any questions or anything?" Alfred tried to distant their conversation from the photos. "If not, we can move on to the Cold War…"

That was when it hit him and he realized something.

Oh no… Talking about the Cold war while there was a Russian next to him? Not to mention, this same Russian seemed to be suspicious of him and was making him nervous now.

"Honhonhonhonhon Now this is going to be interesting," Francis chuckled as he watched the American turned pale. Alfred was very sure that the French was talking about him and not the topic itself.

Behind him, Alfred could hear a creepy 'koikoikoikoikoikoikoikoi…' sound and it made his hair stand on end.

Crap…

* * *

Earlier, when England spotted Alfred and Russia talking together, he noticed the distressed look on the tour guide's face. Did the Russian say something to make the young man look like that? A mix of fear and worry hit him like a truck and had him storm to them immediately. He thought the Russian nation was bullying the young man and the British nation was ready to berate the other nation if he so much as threatened the boy.

Even though, Alfred tried to act like everything was fine and move on to the next section of the tour, England could tell that the young man was nervous about something. England had been working in the government for centuries so he would know how to read people very well. Alfred was one of the easier people to read since the boy was like an open book. Something was bothering him and he wanted to know why.

When Alfred was leading them to the next room to start on the Cold War, England whispered to the Russian with a stern tone, "What did you say to the boy? You better not have scared him for your own amusement."

"I did no such dhing," Russia denied. "As I said before, I merely asked about pilots in photos."

"Pilots? Why are you interested in American pilots?" questioned England, confused.

"It's not _dhese_ pilots I'm interested in," Russia said with a mysterious look in his gaze before following their tour guide.

England was even more confused. What did the Russian mean by this? What was the man planning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Now that we finally caught up to the latest chapter on FF.net, chapter 14 will most likely not be up in a week. Not sure when since it's still being proofread by my friend. The updates will be inconsistent from here on out. Though, it will be at the same time as FF.net.


	15. Chapter 14

_It had been a couple of months since Matthew Williams joined the British army and he trained at their military campsite. There were many men in red uniform walking around, either working or talking among their friends. During the time he had been here, Matthew noticed that among the soldiers, many came from Britain. The numbers for those that were born here in Canada were less compared to them, but not by much. He didn't know why he could tell who was native born and who weren't. It was like he just instinctively knew. Was it their demeanor or the way they talked? He wasn't sure._

_It was right after their training around late afternoon when the campsite was buzzing with activity. Around the campsite, the new recruits were cleaning their rifles, smoking their pipes, playing poker, cooking, napping, and such._

_Matthew was carrying a basket of potatoes to the cooking area since he was put on kitchen duty. The amount of potatoes in the basket was pretty heavy so Matthew was struggling to carry them across the camp. Why couldn't they cook closer to the storage? It would have been a lot easier for him._

_As he walked, he overheard men gossiping. Nobody noticed him eavesdropping since Matthew's presence was mysteriously invisible. It helped with taking his mind off of his troubles, so listening on other people's gossip and rumors became a habit of his._

" _Did you hear about the officer arriving today?" asked one of the men. "He's supposed to be a pretty high rank."_

" _I've heard," nodded the other man. "They say that he had a lot of experience in war tactics and battle strategies. He's supposed to be one of the best and even takes direct orders from the royal family."_

" _Must be a very important person to be taking orders from the King himself. How old do you think he is? My guess is some old man in his fifties, if not sixties, that has been in the army for decades. Do you think he would be able to travel at that age?" joked the first man._

" _Actually, I heard he is pretty young."_

" _What? Are you sure?"_

" _I don't know. Rumors says he's around the same age as us. That is what I heard from the General."_

" _That can't be right. How can he be that young and have such a high position?!" exclaimed the man in disbelief. "He is arriving some time today so we'll see if he is as young as they say. I heard the higher ups are even sending several men to welcome him. We might get a glimpse of him by tonight or tomorrow."_

_A young officer with a high position? Matthew wondered with curiosity if he could meet this man. He must be some prodigy if what the men said were true._

" _Where are those potatoes?!" a shout came from across the campsite. "I ordered someone to fetch them ten minutes ago!"_

_Matthew jolted in shock when he remembered he was supposed to get them. As quickly as he could, Matthew carried the potatoes through the camp, almost bumping into people on the way._

—

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

Matthew felt his phone vibrate in his pants pocket while in the middle of pouring hot water into a teapot. He was working so he was planning to check on it later when another vibration shook his pocket.

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

Hmm? Another alert?

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

Okay, if he got more than a few alerts, then it must be pretty urgent. What could it be? Matthew put down the porcelain teapot and shuffled his pocket for his communication device.

When he pulled out his smartphone, he discovered it was Alfred. No surprise there. Who else sends messages in hoards like him.

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

It looked like his brother was in some kind of panic if he was sending so many messages in a short amount of time and many of them were in caps.

:[Alfred: MATTIE! WE'RE IN TROUBLE!]:

:[Alfred: I THINK THE RUSSIANS ARE ON TO US!]:

W-what!?

Matthew gawked at the message in shock and confusion. The Russians? What did this mean?

:[Alfred: if you're wondering, IT'S TOTALLY NOT MY FAULT!]:

It was his brother's fault. He sighed.

God damn it, Alfred!

But what did his brother do this time? Wasn't today his long-awaited tour he had been excited about the whole week? Did something happened?

Matthew quickly slipped into the kitchen to get some privacy and started to go through his messages once more, trying to find out anymore information on this predicament.

For all the Canadian knew, Alfred might be overthinking it. It wouldn't be the first time his older brother exaggerated something. There was a time he thought one of his neighbors was a sadistic killer and literally kicked down the guy's door, trying to save one of his 'latest victims'. It turned out the guy was watching a horror mystery movie and the police officers were not pleased.

Other times, he thought the convenient store manager was part of the Mexican cartel and the pharmacist doctor was a Nazi spy. There was also that time he thought the lifeguard was a mermaid. All those flirty fish puns were terrible.

:[Alfred: WE TO HAVE A PLAN IF SHIT HITS THE FAN! ASAP!]:

Please let this be one of Alfred's misunderstanding. They just moved here a few months ago and only managed to settle down. He didn't need another crazy drama right now.

:[Alfred: Oh and heads up, we're all coming down to your cafe later]:

Wait, what!?

_Vrrrrrr… Vrrrrrr…_

:[Alfred: BEWARE OF THE COMMIE!]:

In less than five sentences, Alfred had succeeded in giving him a migraine. Matthew had to massage his eyes out of stress. He was still at work so he couldn't talk on the phone and asked his brother about this. He swore that once he saw his brother again, he would demand answers.

Why couldn't his brother be more competent?!

Since his brother was going to bring his guests today, he should be able to assess the situation better. Maybe watch his brother's and the guests' behavior. He just hoped that whatever his brother believed was nothing more than a misunderstanding.

* * *

It was about two hours later when Alfred arrived with his guests. When they entered the cafe, their presence caught the attentions of the other customers almost right away. Though, it was hard not to notice them in the first place. They were a chatty bunch and their distinct accents in their speech made them stand out even more.

" _Ciao_ , Matthew!" Feliciano bounced to the counter with a bright smile on his face,Kiku and Ludwig following right behind him.

"Uh… _Ciao_ , Feliciano," greeted Matthew, awkwardly. "Good day to you, Kiku, Ludwig."

" _Konnichiwa_ , Williams-san," bowed Kiku, politely.

" _Guten tag_ ," Ludwig also nodded to him in greetings.

" _Matthieu_ , 'ow's my _petite fleur_ been doing?" Francis came skipping towards him with a bright smile on his face.

_Petite fleur?_ Little flower? Was he referring to the yellow rose he gave him last time?

"The rose is still alive. It's sitting on the kitchen table at home," said Matthew.

"No no, that's not vhat I'm talking about," The French man shook his head.

"Eh?" If he was not talking about the rose, then what did he meant by little flower?

"I meant you," winked the man.

Matthew could feel his face heating up and he swore he heard several loud squeals throughout the cafe. Was this shameless man trying to flirt with him!?

"Can't you try not to bed everyone you set your eyes on, you monkey!" growled Arthur.

"Hon hon hon hon hon," chuckled Francis. "You know as vell as I do that if I don't give love and attention to all the beautiful flowers, they'll vither away."

Matthew was very sure that he wouldn't 'wither away' if he didn't get his so called 'love and attention,' "Mr. Bonnefoy. Please give it to Kristy." He was very sure that the girl would be more than happy to receive them.

"Heya, Mattie," Alfred popped up right behind the counter and right next to the Canadian.

When did he get here!?

"Al, you know you can't be back here during working hours," scolded Mathew. "Only employees are allowed and last time I checked, you're not working here."

While he was giving his American brother a look of disapproval, another presence stood on the other side of the counter, which caught the attention of the Canadian almost immediately. Matthew turned to the new figure, who was also part of this mixed group of foreigners, and realized that he didn't recognized this person.

" _Zdravstvuyte_. It's nice to meet you," smiled the man. His accent sounded Russian, so this could only mean he was the infamous Russian that his brother warned him about. "I am Ivan Braginsky. You must be his brodher. Alfred mentions you many times during our meetings."

The man held out his hand for a handshake. From Matthew's impression of Mr. Braginsky, he seemed like a really nice and polite man, so why was Alfred wary of him?

"I'm Matthew Williams. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Matthew took the hand and shook it.

"What is with all that racket out the—Oh my god, the return of the hottie brigade!" squealed Kristy when she peeked out from the kitchen door. That was when she noticed Ivan, "And is that a new face I see?"

"Hello, I am Ivan Braginsky," Ivan introduced himself again to her.

"I'm Kristy," Kristy eyed the man with interest. "Let me guess, Russian?"

"Oh?," the Russian was impressed. "Vas my accent dhat obvious?"

"Yep," confirmed Kristy.

"Yo, Kristy, can ya take their orders right now? I need to have a chat with my brother about something," asked Alfred.

"Sure!" agreed the girl, enthusiastically.

"Hmm? Is it important, da?" Ivan gave the American a curious look. "Vill you not be looking after us?

"I just need a few minutes with my bro here and I'll come back to entertain you guys," Alfred tried to keep a professional smile. "Kristy will be taking care of you guys in the meantime," he said before he turned to the girl, "Thanks, Kristy. Don't goggle at them too much."

"I'll try," she winked at him before whipping back to the hot men before her. "Alright, boys, whatcha like to order?"

As Kristy was tending the cashier, Alfred grabbed Matthew by the arm and dragged his brother into the kitchen.

"Al! Explain to me what is going on, eh?" demanded Matthew, once they were inside the kitchen with the door closed shut.

"I already told you! Ivan is on to us!" claimed Alfred, looking distressed.

"How could he, eh? Are you sure you're not over exaggerating this?" Matthew gave his brother a doubtful look.

"Dude! You weren't there! He was saying these weird things that sounded like he knows something about me," whined Alfred. "It's like he figured out that I was there when World War Two happened."

"What?" Matthew gave his brother a look of confusion and nervousness. "But how could he have known that, eh? You only met each other a few times!"

"I don't know. Maybe he's a secret agent from Russia?" suggested his older brother.

Matthew gave a doubtful look before sighing in exhaustion.

"Oh come on, Mattie! I'm not kidding here!" pleaded Alfred, getting frustrated.

"Then what do you propose we do? Pack up and leave?" asked Matthew. "You have international guests to entertain and you being paranoid over one of them is going to make them all suspicious."

"Then what about being prepared if the worst possible outcome happens?"t he nervous American expressed his concerns.

"Worst possible outcome?" Matthew gave his brother a confused look.

"Yup! Basically, if they figured out that we're not normal," explained Alfred.

"Well, if that happens, then we have no choice but to run right away," the Canadian crossed his arms when he pondered about this. "But for now, just don't act suspicious. Just go back out there and be a proper host to those foreigners. I also need to get back to work myself."

"Alright, fine," agreed Alfred. "But if I'm right about that smiley face Russian, then we make a break for it, 'kay?"

Matthew gave a deep sigh, "Fine… But I still think you're overthinking it."

"I hope you're right though," said the elder twin. "I was already getting used to this place and I really don't want to leave just yet."

* * *

"I wonder what those two are talking about?" wondered England, thinking about the two blonde twins.

"Maybe your boy lil' Alfred could not stand to be avay from 'is beloved brother that 'e couldn't resist 'aving some alone time vith my dear sweat _Mathieu_ ," smirked France. "They are quite close, after all."

England felt chills going down his spine, "I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying, you perverted monkey!"

They were currently sitting at a table after they made their order. While they wait, the nations chatted among themselves. Italy wouldn't stop talking with Germany and Japan about the tour they had. It was quite obvious that he had a great time and the others agreed. The Italian recalled his time with the Americans, the sights he saw, the people he met, his role in the young country's history. Japan didn't have a long history with the Americans, only recently leaving his isolation and opened his doors to the world. Well, 'recent' in terms of nation life-time.

Russia made a few comments himself, though, England noticed how the Russian's eyes would wander to the kitchen door. England knew that Ivan wasn't fascinated by the door, but something behind it. Knowing what it was that caught the attention of the Russian nation, England felt bothered. Why was Russia so interested in the American boy?

"Ivan," England called the Russian man. "I've noticed you seemed to be quite fascinated with Mr. Jones. You don't normally pay attention to 'people' who are not from your homeland. Yet, I noticed you tend to watch the boy very attentively. Is there a reason why?"

This accusation caught the other nations' attention and the whole table went silent from confusion and curiosity.

Russia turned his calm gaze towards the British nation with an innocent smile on his face. "I don't know vhat you're trying to insinuate, but I admit dhat I am interested in dhat boy and his brother."

" _Matthieu?_ " Now this made France frown. "Vhy would you be interested in _that_ boy? You only just met 'im a few minutes ago."

"I have my reasons," Russia's innocent smile became a mysterious one. "Vhat about you two? You seem to be quite fond of dhem."

Both the British and French men glared at the Russian. A sense of protectiveness for the twins swelled inside the two European nations as well as distrust for the Russian nation. The other three nations at the table looked at the two sides of this strange conversation back and forth in awkwardness. It was almost like a war was about to break lose between them.

"If you so much as harm a hair on their heads, I'll…" Before England could finish his threat, an energetic and loud voice cut him off.

"I'm back!" announced Alfred. "So you guys doing okay over here?"

The tense atmosphere from before was broken with the boy's presence.

"Ah! Alfred, you're finally back!" squeaked Feliciano, happy to see him. Probably glad to have something to break the uncomfortable mood before. "You didn't miss much. Come! Sit!"

Alfred sat down between the Italian and the British. "So you guys already ordered, right? Lets see… one, two, three,… There're six of you and if including me, that would be seven. The food might take awhile since there're a lot of us, so we can just chat in the mean time."

"Dhat's fine, so let's talk about pasta!" suggested Feliciano with enthusiasm.

"You already talk about that before coming here," reminded Kiku.

"Dhen pizza?" Feliciano tried again.

"You a'so talked about that and had quite a debate with Alfred-san about it," Kiku gave the Italian a blank look.

"Please, no more talk of Italian cuisine," groaned Ludwig, face palming himself.

"Then vhat about French?" smirked Francis.

"No!" Arthur glared at the French.

"Vhat? Can't stand that my cuisine are far more superior then your British garbage you call food?"the French man mocked and laughed arrogantly.

"Why you bloody arrogant frog face bastard!" Arthur shot up from his seat and had his fist out, ready to send it flying into the French's cocky grin.

"Hey! Hey! Calm down you two!" Alfred quickly got up from his own seat and came between the two Europeans. "Why are we fighting over who's food is better anyways?"

"This happens every time, Alfred-san," sighed the Japanese man.

While the American was trying to calm the British down, Ivan had been silent as he watched the argument go down in entertainment. Alfred finally got Arthur to sit back down, but the British was still glaring daggers at the French. Francis sneered at the British, who was ready to pounce on him at any moment. Alfred looked at the other men for help, but Feliciano was already rambling about something to Ludwig and Kiku seemed to be reading something on his phone.

"So Alfred," called Ivan. "I'm curious. Vhere did you attend school? Did you graduated vith a degree in anything?"

Alfred face turned slightly pale. "Uh… I…"

Before he could say anymore, Arthur cut in with a growl. "I believe that's personal information, Ivan."

Seeing the boy's nervous and uncomfortable set something off inside the British nation and he would not have it. He didn't know why the Russian was so interested with the American boy, but the Super Power nation had been making the boy nervous since the museum tour. What did Ivan say to the boy to make Alfred act this way? If it was anything like harassment or threats, Arthur would have something to say about that.

"I'm just curious," Ivan smiled innocently.

"Why are you so interested in his life?" demanded Arthur. "Since the tour, no, even before that, you have been acting unusually odd. I don't know why you're fascinated with Alfred, but I ask you better not be planning anything that would make me…"

"Make you vhat? Beat me up? Call your boss?" Ivan cocked his head to the side. "You know very vell vhat I'm capable of and I don't dhink your superior vould find it acceptable to cause trouble with anodher nation over a mere American boy."

"Hey! I'm not a kid!" retorted Alfred. "I resent that!"

Ignoring the American, Arthur gave Ivan such a fierce glare that Feliciano was shivering in fear and squeezed himself close to the German next to him for comfort. Both Ludwig and Kiku stared at the scene with caution and confusion.

"Is everything alright, eh?" Matthew suddenly appeared out of nowhere. causing the whole table to jump in surprise. In his hands was a tray full of beverages that they each ordered.

"Oh Mattie! Everything is… peachy… I see you got our drinks," Alfred gave his brother an awkward smile.

The Canadian stared at the scene before him with confusion, not sure what was going on. One man looked like he wanted to strangle someone while the other had this taunting grin on his face.

"Like vhat your brodher said, everydhing is quite fine," smiled Ivan. "Ve're just having a friendly dispute."

Matthew was still confused, but decided to just shrug it off for now.

"Um, so who ordered jasmine green tea?" Matthew held up a hot cup of steaming tea.

" _Hai_ ," Kiku raised his hand.

As Matthew was handing out the drinks, Ivan studied the Canadian with the same interest he had with his American brother, which didn't go unnoticed by the French and British nations.

"Ivan, I vould appreciate it if you vould stop staring like that" Francis dropped the flirty act from before to an unusually serious tone.

"Hmm? Care to elaborate on vhat you meant by 'staring like d _hat'_?" taunted Ivan.

"You know full vell vhat I meant, Mr. Braginksky," the French man glared back. He was not messing around.

Arthur didn't like the way Ivan's grin grew wider with amusement at the French's seriousness. At the same time, the British nation was also surprised to see Francis acting so humorless from his usual carefree self. To think that the two nations, known to be at each other's necks, would be on the same side of a problem against a common foe. Something like this hadn't happened since World War Two.

The tension rising from the three nations became more intense than before, making the other nations feel nervous and awkward. Even the customers nearby could sense the sparks flying and couldn't help but stare at their table anxiously.

Suddenly, Arthur stood up, causing a few people to jump in surprise. "If you would excuse me, I am going to go wash my hands," said Arthur, coldly. Then he turned to the Canadian, "Where is the toilet?"

"Oh uh, the washroom is over there," the Canadian pointed to a general direction. "I can show you if you want."

"I would appreciate it," Arthur followed Matthew.

Glad to leave the table, Matthew lead the British to a small hallway in the flower shop section of the cafe. The toilet sign hung visibly on a door in the hallway so there was no way anyone could miss it. It was a one room gender neutral kind so it meant there was only one toilet in this whole establishment.

"Much appreciated," thanked Arthur.

"You're welcome," Matthew let out a sigh.

Before the Canadian could leave, the British man spoke up, "I must apologize for our behavior earlier. We didn't mean to cause a scene."

"It's alright," Matthew reassured him. "Though… Is everything alright between you and your friends? Are you guys fi—having a disagreement?"

"I wouldn't call them 'friends'," corrected Arthur. "They are colleagues. Furthermore, you don't need to be concern about us. This isn't something out of the ordinary. We get into arguments quite often."

"Oh, I see," said Matthew, though he still looked worried. "Well, I hope you and your colleagues solve whatever dispute you have. Staying angry at each other for too long is never a good thing. It's better to get along than fighting each other all the time."

Hearing those sincere and concern words caused Arthur to gaze at the boy fondly. Compared to his brother, who was more lively and outgoing, Matthew was more calm and kind. He was a sweet boy and like Alfred, Arthur didn't want any harm to befall on these pair of brothers.

"You're a good man, Matthew Williams," smiled Arthur. "Thank you."

* * *

_When England arrived in Upper Canada, he was welcomed by his soldiers at the port. The months journey across the Atlantic ocean was a long and exhausting trip so he was looking forward to a nice rest. Since he just reached solid land after months of being on water, he still felt a little dizzy as if he was still feeling the waves of the ocean. It will take maybe a few hours and good rest to get his sense of balance back again._

_The reason for this long trip was due to his duty. By the orders of his superior, England was sent here to be the adviser and strategist of the upcoming operation, invade Washington and attack the White House. Though he already had soldiers from his land, he still recruited others in Canada to increase their victory of this mission. After what happened in Ontario, it wouldn't be difficult to gather men who were angered by such an attack by the Americans. Wth new men meant more time required to train the new recruits and a demand in supplies._

_When he arrived at the campsite, the general welcomed him hospitably and invited him to his office to have a nice hot tea and biscuits. They discussed a bit about their upcoming invasion for an hour or so before England asked to go to his tent to rest._

_The General called for an officer to escort him to his tent. He also made sure to give England a large stack of papers for him to look through whenever he can, so the British nation made a note to himself to read these when he wakes up._

_Once England made it to his tent, he thanked the officer before going in. The space inside was the size of a small room. There was a bed on one side of the tent while the other side had a small set of desk and chair for him to work on. An oil lamp hung from above, spreading its light throughout the tent. It wasn't the best sleeping arrangement he had, but it would do. He wasn't here for vacation after all._

_He placed his personal belongings on the floor before grabbing the stack of papers he was given by the General. England was too tired to look through them right now,so he just put the papers on the desk before he undress himself for bed. It was still in the afternoon so it was noisy outside, but England was so tired from the long trip that he went to sleep almost right away. By the time he woke up, it was already night._

_When he woke up in an unrecognizable room, he was confused for a few seconds until he remembered. He was in North America, readying an attack on Washington and he had paperworks to read through. Once he was up, he went to his desk and begun going through his paperwork. He planned to go through these documents before tomorrow, so he went to work right away. This was going to be a long night._

_As time went on, England started to become hungry. He only had tea and biscuits when he arrived here and he hadn't had a proper meal since he was on the ship. But it was night and everyone was probably in their tent sleeping at this time._

_Just when England was wondering whether he should try making something himself or wait until morning, he smelled something in the air. The delightful smell caught England's attention and his stomach growled in hunger. Wondering where it was coming from, he sniffed the air and looked around curiously._

_To his surprise, he found a tray of food on his bed. There was a bowl of stew, a kettle, and a metal mug on the tray._

_When was that there?_

_He looked around, wondering who brought it in, and didn't find anybody else in the tent. Curious, he got up from his desk and went to inspect the food tray. The stew was still warm and the kettle had steaming hot tea. This meant that recently, someone came into his tent and placed this tray here._

_That was peculiar. England didn't hear anyone coming in. Maybe one of the soldiers came to drop off his food in case he was hungry, but not wanting to disturb him, they didn't make any noise or even call him._

_While he was still pondering about this, his stomach growled again._

_Oh right. He had been reading papers for hours and hadn't had dinner so he was quite famished. He sat down on his bed, took the bowl of stew and spoon, and begun eating. The stew didn't taste amazing in anyway, but when he was hungry, it tasted good. It would do for now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading
> 
> Here's the Matthew's and England's past event together. This was requested by several FF.net readers. This might extend the story by another chapter or two, but I hoped to get this story completed before I get burnt out from stress.
> 
> I cut the tour short because I was a little tired from researching so much history and I wanted to get through the story faster. Sorry if it felt like this was rushed. I have to fly to Thailand tomorrow morning for my sister's wedding.


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry guys for the long wait. Please enjoy the chapter.

_It was around late morning when England walked to the makeshift cooking area of the campsite, where half a dozen men were preparing lunch for the rest of the soldiers. The sound of chopping and clanking could be heard from a distance. Although the men were all in their casuals, England knew they were soldiers. To avoid dirtying their uniforms, they prefer to wear garments that they were unafraid of staining. A few of them even wore aprons. He noted two men cutting up vegetables at one corner, another two chopping up meat beside them, one was peeling a bucket of apples, and the last was stirring a pot over by the fireplace._

_"Pardon me, gentlemen," England held up the tray of dishes from last night's meal. The bowl, kettle, and mug were washed and cleaned and neatly placed on the tray. "Did either of you know who prepared this last night?"_

_The man, who was stirring the pot, turned to look at the tray and shook his head, "No, sir. After supper, we all headed to our tents for the night."_

_"Is that so? Do you by any chance know who did?" the nation asked. "I would like to express my appreciation to them for the late night supper, but I unfortunately did not had the chance to see the person, so I do not know who it was."_

_"Last night?" The man stopped stirring pot and pondered for awhile. "I think someone came into my tent last night, inquiring about where the cooking utensils were. He mentioned cooking something for someone, but I can't remember who it was."_

_"Do you remember what they look like?" England asked, hopefully._

_"Blonde hair, I believe," the man scratched his chin, thinking very hard. Suddenly, he turned around and shouted to another man nearby. "Hey, Thomas! You remember the guy who came into our tent last night?"_

_The man, who was peeling apples, looked up at being called. "Last night? I'm not too sure since I was half asleep at that time, but I think I might have an idea who it was."_

_"Who?"_

_"I can't seem to remember his name for some reason, but it's that guy the others called the 'Ghost,' I think," the apple-peeling man assumed._

_The_ Ghost? _Did a paranormal entity served him late-night supper?_

_"Oh! That guy," the man with the apron nodded. "Yeah, I think he might be our guy."_

_"The Ghost? Are you suggesting this campsite is haunted?" England gave the two men a confused look._

_"No, not a literal ghost. It's a nickname the other soldiers like to call him, because he tends to appear out of nowhere without anybody noticing like a ghost," the man with the apron explained. "He barely has any presence when he's around. Almost as if he's invisible."_

_"Really?" This man called the 'Ghost' sounded like a peculiar person. Though, his description would explain why England had a tray of food placed on his bed without the nation noticing. "Well, do you know where I can find him?"_

_"Believe me when I say finding him will be a challenge," the man chuckled with amusement. "Some of the guys here made it into a game to pass the time. Best bet would be calling out for him. He usually appears when called, but I don't think he likes being called the Ghost though. Try checking the training grounds. I believe his unit is still training there."_

_"That sounds promising. Thank you very much for your assistance," England smiled at them before handing the man the tray. "Is it alright to hand this to you? I do need to be on my way."_

_"It's fine, sir. I can take it," the man took the tray. "Good luck in finding him, sir."_

_With that, England left the men to their preparations and walked off towards the training grounds. The nation could hear men shouting in the distance as he headed towards his destination. He spotted a group of men marching in the fields in an organized unit. The Captain was standing on the side, shouting instructions. If England was lucky, the man he was looking for would be among them._

_When the British nation reached the training field, he went straight to the Captain right away. The Captain was a well built middle age man with dark brown hair and a well trimmed beard, giving him a mature and stern appearance._

_"Pardon my intrusion, Captain, but I have a favor to ask of you," Arthur said. "There is a man I'm looking and I believe he might be among the men you are currently training."_

_"Good morning, Mister Kirkland," the Captain bowed in respect. "I see your trip went smoothly and who are you looking for? Do you have a name of the lad?"_

_"Unfortunately, I do not know his name, but I heard he is referred to as the 'Ghost'," Arthur said the last part in slight amusement._

_"Oh! I believe I know who you're looking for," the Captain beamed when he figured out who this mysterious 'Ghost' person was. He turned to the field and hollered loudly, "Matthew Williams! Come over here at once!"_

_The group of men looked at one another in curiosity as they were marching, causing the Captain to shout again. "Look forward! Don't get distracted or I'll have you all on laundry duty!"_

_"YES SIR!" All the men's heads snapped forward and they continued marching in a timely matter._

_"So this young man is called Matthew Williams?" England turned to the middle age man. "Are the rumors true of his uncanny ability to appear without notice?"_

_"You might think that it's exaggerated, but it's true," The captain nodded in confirmation. "I had experienced such bizarre encounter myself."_

_"You called for me, sir?" a soft voice spoke from in front of the two men._

_Arthur turned at the voice and nearly jumped out of his skin at the appearance of a young man in front of him, who appeared out of thin air. Where the blazes did this lad came from?! He didn't even see him coming!_

_The Captain seemed to be used to this, because the man kept a calm demeanor. Unlike Arthur, who was still staring with wide eyes at the young man before him. True, the boy's sudden appearance gave him a surprise, but when Arthur had a good look at him, his facial features reminded him strongly of someone._

_Alfred?_

_No, he wasn't Alfred. The lad did look very similar to the colonist boy, but his hair was slightly longer and his eyes were violet. Alfred's were blue. Even though Arthur knew this wasn't the colonist boy, but looking at that face didn't stop him from feeling an aching pain in his chest._

_"Mr. Williams, this man is here to see you," the Captain waved at Arthur. "His name is Arthur Kirkland and he's an officer who serves the Royal family and is here to assist us with invading the White House."_

_"It's an honor to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kirkland," Matthew reached out his hand._

_"O-oh! Mine as well," Arthur took the lad's hand and shook. Remembering why he was here in the first place, he asked, "Were you the one who placed the tray of food on my bed last night?"_

_The young man looked a little surprise and looked down at his shoes nervously, "Y-yes, sir. I apologize for not waiting for your permission to enter your tent first, but I did try to get your attention before I entered. Believe me, I didn't mean any disrespect. You looked really busy with your work, so I didn't want to disturb your concentration and placed the tray down on your bed."_

_The boy's sudden nervous attitude made Arthur arch his brows._

_Taking another note, the boy's demeanor was also different compared to Alfred. Alfred was more energetic and confident. Playful, he might add. Matthew seemed more quiet and a little timid. It was like watching a frightened child that was about to get scolded by an adult._

_"You don't need to be so nervous, lad," Arthur tried to calm him down. "I just wanted to thank you for the food. You are not in any trouble."_

_"Oh…I-it was nothing, sir," the boy looked a little relieved. "I just thought you might be hungry after your trip. I noticed you went to your tent without supper and thought you might get hungry in the middle of the night. When I noticed the light in your tent was lit, I went to prepare the food right away."_

_"You were watching my tent?" The nation questioned, slightly baffled. He was sure he woke up very late last night to work, so how long did this young man stayed up and watched his tent?_

_"I-I was put on night patrol duty and came upon your tent during my rounds," Matthew explained._

_"Ah yes. I remember putting you on night patrol last night," the Captain groomed his beard. "He makes a great scout and night watcher since nobody would notice him if they do something they know they shouldn't be doing like breaking curfew. Matthew here had caught quite a number of men trying to sneak into town for a little midnight amusement on his first week."_

_So that was why he saw the light from Arthur's tent. The nation almost thought he had a stalker on his hands, but the lad was just doing his duty. He had to admit though, he could barely feel the boy's presence. He would make an excellent spy._

_"Um… is there anything else you need me for, sir?" Matthew looked up nervously._

_"Oh no, I just wanted to thank you. That was all," Arthur gave the boy a warm smile. "You can return to your training, lad."_

_"Alright, back to marching with you," the Captain ordered._

_As told, the young man ran back to his marching group on the training field._

_Arthur couldn't help watch the back of the young man when he ran off, feeling a slight melancholy. The lad reminded the nation of the colonist boy so much, even though, there was a distinct different between them. Both in appearance and behavior. Their presence was also different. Alfred was bright and full of energy. He was loud as a trumpet, so anybody would notice him running down the streets. Matthew on the other hand was quiet and barely had any presence. Like how the other soldiers described him, he was like a ghost._

_For a week, the nation tried to search for the boy when he wasn't in a meeting or working in his tent. Strangely, finding the violet eye boy was hard as the rumor said. If the boy didn't make himself known to you personally, then finding him was almost impossible. How was it possible for a human to achieve such stealth?_

_The few occasions that he did managed to speak with the young man was when the lad was delivering some documents or meals to him. During those times, Arthur tried having a conversation with him. Matthew was a well mannered young man and calm when he was around the nation. Normally, lower ranked soldiers tend to get very nervous around him due to his rank, but Matthew was strangely coolheaded._

_The boy answered accordingly when the nation inquired where the boy was from and why he joined the British army, but would not go out of his way to provide more details unless Arthur asked about it. Arthur tried asking about his hometown and family, Matthew became quieter, if that was possible for the lad, and gave open-ended answers. It was as if he didn't want to talk about this subject._

_As curious as Arthur was, he didn't pry any further. He didn't want to make the boy feel like he was interrogated. The nation just wanted to have a nice little chat with him. The time he spent with the young man was short and few, but Arthur couldn't help but grew fond of him like he once did with another boy._

_Eventually, the time came when they marched to Washington D.C._

_England was honestly worried about the boy's well being. He was a soldier and many soldiers lose their lives on the battlefield. Matthew was still young and had such a long future ahead of him. England didn't want any harm to come to the boy, but this was war and Matthew chose to join the army, knowing what it meant._

_After the attack on Washington D.C. and the White House was burnt down, Matthew went missing. When Arthur heard of this news, he was heartbroken once again. First, Alfred and now, Matthew. Why did the humans he grew fond end up gone? Why must he suffer this same tragedy over and over like a curse? As much as Arthur wanted to curse his own existence, he could only move on since this was the fate of a nation._

_Nobody knew what happened to Matthew Williams. His whereabouts were never known and his body was never found. He just simply disappeared without a trace…_

_Just like a ghost._

* * *

"See! What did I say about that Russian dude," Alfred whispered in the lowest voice he could do to Matthew.

"I'm starting to see what you mean," Matthew answered thoughtfully in the same low tone. Though, considering how he talked normally, it was only slightly lower than his normal voice. "He does act suspiciously and the way he looked at us made me feel…"

"Creeped out?"

"I was going to say 'uncomfortable,' but that works too."

At the moment, both brothers were discussing quietly among themselves in the flower shop section of the cafe, where the foreigners wouldn't be able to hear them talk. Fortunately, Alfred was able to slip away from the table and the strange Russian man without suspicion to have this talk with his brother.

"I think we should prepare a plan of retreat if he does figure something out about us and tries to abduct us to do who-knows-what horrifying experiments on us like some lab rats!" Alfred said with fearful eyes. He was probably imagining those 'horrifying experiments in his head already.

"I still think you might be exaggerating this, but just in case, do you want to end your dinner party early?" The Canadian asked. "You're already done with your tour, which was the main activity today, correct? Then once everyone is done eating, you can have them leave. They have to fly back to their countries after all. Once Ivan goes back, then he'll be out of our hair."

"Uh… I guess…," Alfred suddenly changed his attitude from anxiety to uncertainty, causing Matthew to stare at his brother in confusion.

Why the hesitation? Didn't his brother want this stressful event to be done with?

Noticing Alfred turning slightly to look at something, Matthew turned to where his brother was looking and discovered that Alfred was staring at the table of his guests. That was when something in Matthew's head clicked.

"Don't want to get this over with, eh?" Matthew turned back to his brother.

"Well.. It's just… True, I'm suspicious of Ivan, but the others are fine," Alfred rubbed the back of his head anxiously. "I like them. Arthur, Feliciano, Kiku, Francis, and even Ludwig. Something about them makes me want to spend more time with them. Just not Ivan. You get me?"

"I see," Matthew nodded in understanding. His brother was having a dilemma. He wouldn't be Alfred if he didn't like socializing and making friends left and right. "But if you want to spend more time with them, then you have to tolerate Ivan as well. That's pretty much the deal with this situation."

"Ugh! I know," the American brother groaned.

"If you want to spend more time with your new friends, then just endure it and don't say anything that would make him more suspicious," Matthew crossed his arms. "There's not much we can do if you're gonna be like this."

"I guess," Alfred looked down at his feet when he replied.

"Alright then. Go back to your table," Matthew grasped his brother on the shoulder as moral support. "Wouldn't want them to get suspicious now, eh? Don't forget, don't say or do anything that would give us away, got it?"

"Crystal clear," Alfred nodded with a small smile.

The American brother walked back to his table with what he thought was a lively but forced smile. He even thought of an excuse just in case they asked about his absence from the table. Fortunately, they didn't seem to notice his absence and continued with their talk and food.

For Matthew, he went back to the cashier counter, where he noticed Kristy openly staring at the table of men with a hungry look on her face. Matthew would've bet that if she stared any longer, she would start salivating. The Canadian couldn't stop himself from sighing in exhaustion at his female coworker.

"Still ogling at their table, eh?" Matthew gave her a look of disapproval.

"I don't get to see a buffet of hot men like this everyday, you know," Kristy retorted, still keeping her eyes on the handsome foreigners. "Should I try asking one of them out for just one night?"

"Kristy, don't," Matthew immediately stopped her. "They're foreigners with jobs in their government, so messing around with one of them sounds like a terrible idea. I'm barely tolerating with you flirting with them, but don't go any further then that."

"Aw! Is Mattie-pattie concern for lil' ol Kristy?" Kirsty gave the Canadian a delighted look, though with a hint of teasing in her eyes. "I'm so flattered you cared for me so much, darling, but don't you already have your sweetheart Alfie already?"

"Kristy, please…" Matthew gave her an aggravated look. All these incest joke was making his skin crawl. "For the love of god, please stop that. It's not funny."

"What were you two talking about in the flower section, hmm?" Kristy smirked. "Having a little brotherly heart to heart during work, are we?"

She pulled out her smartphone and held up her device for Matthew to see the screen. It was a photo shot of Matthew and Alfred in the flower section earlier. It was the moment when Matthew grasped Alfred's shoulder to help assure his brother and calm him down. It would have looked like a normal photo of two brothers if it wasn't for the pink hearts and flowers floating around them. There was even two cupids on each top corner of the picture.

What the hell was she imagining in her sick head about them!? Wait, this was Kristy, he was talking about.

"Just look how cute you two are. Sweet ol' Matthew being all sweet with his beloved older brother. How can anybody not go 'awwww' with this?"

"Miss, either you get help or I will get a restraining order," Matthew tried to snatch the phone, but Kristy was too quick for him and pulled it away from his reach.

"Nope! This is gonna go into my secret yaoi files," Kristy stuck out her tongue at him in taunt.

The Canadian stared at her in disbelief with what she just said. "You have a what?!"

"Oops! Guess it's not so secret anymore," she giggled.

Now Matthew was even more determined to get her phone.

"Give me that!" He demanded in frustration as he tried to grab her device again.

"Not on your life!" She retorted back as she dodged away.

"If you don't give me your phone right now, I will break it once I get my hands on it and I will break into your apartment and break your computer too!" Matthew threatened while still fighting for her phone.

Kristy wasn't faze by the Canadian's threat as she kept dodging the man to keep her phone out of his reach while chuckling evilly. She was enjoying this way too much for her own good.

* * *

"Aw! 'Ow sweet," Feliciano watched the two cafe workers mess around behind the counter with adoration. "Are dose two dating, ve?"

"Though the young lady is not shy about 'er desires, I'm quite sure that they are not together in that vay," Francis explained. "I vould know. She and I are like a bird of a feather. Ve love to flirt, but rarely serious about relationships."

"What? Are you guys talking about Mattie and Kristy?" Alfred stared at the Italian and French with confusion before turning to where his brother was struggling to grab something from the girl's hand. Was that a smartphone? Why was Mattie wrestling Kristy for it? "I can guarantee that Mattie is not interested in Kristy like that. If he was, he would've told me. They're more like close friends and coworkers. Kristy likes to mess with Mattie a lot and it looks like she's doing it again."

Kristy was like a rabbit, hopping around out of Matthew's reach while making a weird obnoxious laugh. The Canadian himself made several attempts on her communication device and failed every time, making him look more and more frustrated.

"So you guys are going back to your countries tomorrow right?" Alfred turned back to the table, ignoring his brother's plight. "Are all of you leaving at the same time? Same flight too?"

"No, Kiku and Ivan will take different flights. The rest of us are on the same flight to Europe, but will travel separately afterwards," Arthur explained. "Our departure time will be in the afternoon."

"I'm already packed and ready," Feliciano chimed. "But I might get some more souvenirs for my broder."

"Didn't you already bought zhem?" Ludwig turned to the Italian with a confused look. During their stay in the country, Feliciano had already went shopping several times. Ludwig knew this because the Italian kept dragging him and Kiku with him every time he wants to sightsee.

"No, silly! Dhose are for me," Feliciano corrected the German with a bright smile.

Ludwig gave him a deadpan look.

"Why don't you get them at the airuport?" Kiku suggested. "I don't think we have time foru another shopping trip."

The conversation at the table was back to its friendly and casualness again, which Alfred was thankful for. Although, Ivan's mysterious smirk was still plastered on the Russian's face and Alfred didn't like it. But like what Matthew told him, just endure it and don't say anything that would screw him and Matthew over later.

You could do this Alfred! Nothing a hero couldn't do, right? Just have fun with your new pals and ignore that creepy commie's smile.

At some point, Arthur and Francis somehow got into an argument about each other's economy, which Alfred had no idea what they were talking about. Thirty seconds later, the topic of whose economy was in the worst state turned into whose pastries were better. Alfred wasn't sure how it happened, but it was unexpectedly entertaining when the foreigners were insulting each other while still sounding eloquent. The heavy accent just made it better.

"Scones are the food of gentlemen! Of course, a cheese eating monkey like you wouldn't be able to appreciate such fine cooking!" Arthur scoffed.

"Oh hon hon hon hon! _Au contraire, Angleterre!_ At least, my pastries don't kill people just by tasting it," Francis taunted. "I use the finest ingredients and spices to make my vorld class cuisines. You probably go through your rubbish bin for your ingredients."

"Nonsense! I had the biggest spice trade in history!"

"Then vhy does your dishes taste like thousand year old parchment!? They're as bland as your fashion sense."

The two men went on and on like this and Alfred couldn't help, but lean over slightly towards Feliciano's group. "Are they always like this?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Ludwig sighed.

"Compared to the other times they argue, this isn't asu badu," Kiku sipped his hot tea.

"Dhey're a lot worse in meetings," Feliciano added cheerfully. It was as if the two arguing men were a norm to them.

"Dude, really?" Alfred stared at the trio in disbelief. This wasn't considered bad to them? "What about… Have they ever been, well, nice… or friendly to each other?"

The trio looked at each at the American's question before facing Alfred again.

" _No_ "

" _Nein_ "

" _Ie_ "

All three said at the same time.

"At most, zhey can be civil and tolerant of each ozher. Sometimes, agreeable," Ludwig explained. "But I have never seen zhem be 'nice', much less 'friendly' to each ozher."

"For some reason, when I try to imagine dhem being buddy-buddy widh each odher makes me shiver." Emphasizing his point, the Italian hugged himself and shook.

"The chansu of them being friendry isu very unrikery," Kiku nodded in agreement.

"Okaaaaay… Not sure if you guys are joking or being serious right now," Alfred frown, unsure whether they were messing with him or not.

* * *

_Ding!_

The sound of the doorbell chimed as someone walked into the cafe. It was barely noticeable, but it was ignored by most of the patrons. It wasn't out of the ordinary for someone to enter the cafe afterall. The newcomer walked up to the cashier like a typical customer, but if anyone took note of the new patron, then they would've noticed his odd posture. His back was hunched slightly and his hands were in his pants pocket. A jersey jacket on a warm day like this? If one were to describe his expression, it looked grim and irritated. His glare was filled with anger and frustration. Food and flowers was unlikely what the man had in mind.

His intense glare was directed at the two pair of coworkers at the counter, his anger rose to fury and frustration turned to anguish.

"So he really was your new boyfriend, huh Kristy?" the person glared venomously at the two workers.

Both Kristy and Matthew froze in surprise before turning to the person whom was speaking, not realizing their position they were in. Matthew had one of his arms wrapped around Kristy's waist while the other was reaching out to grab the girl's phone. A pose that could easily be misinterpreted and it made the rage inside the man rise even more.

"Juan?" Kristy stared at the man across the counter in surprise before it turned to annoyance. "What are you doing here? I told you that you can't come to my workplace anymore! Hell! I don't even want to see you again!"

"What? Am I not allowed here as a customer, bitch?" Juan spat.

" _Bitch?!_ What the hell?!" Kristy nearly screamed, very much offended.

"What? You want me to call you 'whore'?" A sneer formed on the tan man's face.

There were some customers staring at them, curiously. Even Alfred's table turned to watch at what was going on.

"Juan, get OUT! _NOW!_ " Kristy was beyond furious. Her face was turning red with anger and tears were forming in her eyes, feeling very humiliated. "I can't believe you came to my workplace and insulted me right in the middle of the store! Right in front of all these people!"

"What's wrong with letting everybody know that you're slut!" Juan didn't let down. The smirk on his face pretty much express how much he was enjoying insulting his ex-girlfriend in front of all these spectators.

Matthew had enough.

Matthew stepped in front of Kristy with his back facing her. "Sir, if you're not going to order anything, then please leave." He really didn't want to get pulled into some unnecessary drama, but if this man continue to harass his coworker and cause a scene, then he was ready to kick this man out of the store.

"Stay out of this, bastard!" Juan shouted furiously at the Canadian. "Don't think I'm done with you yet!"

"Hey! Who you calling a bastard?!" Alfred shot up from his seat, ready to defend his brother.

Juan's eyes grew in shock and confusion when he looked at the American, but it was quickly gone when he figured that this man might be related to the Canadian from their almost identical features.

"Fuck off!" the angry man yelled at the American before turning back to the Canadian and the woman. "So one wasn't enough, you slutty whore."

"Sir, you need to leave the store or I will call the cops," the Canadian gave the man a cold and dead serious stare. Rarely did Matthew express such a look at anyone. He was known for his calm and patient personalities, but something about Juan felt very off and Matthew's senses were telling him to be on guard.

"Shut the FUCK UP!" Juan pulled something out of his pocket and aimed it at the Canadian.

It was a gun.

The air in the cafe froze with silence for two seconds before chaos erupted.

"HOLY SHIT! HE HAS A GUN!"

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"RUN!"

Most of the customers screamed and ran out of the cafe in fear and self-preservation. Chairs were knocked to the ground and tables were flipped over. Plates and glasses shattered into pieces upon hitting the floor. Ludwig was shouting for people to get out. Feliciano was shaking in fear as he was holding onto Kiku for reassurance. Arthur, Francis, and Ivan stood up, ready to take action at any moment.

Both Matthew and Kristy were too horrified and shock to move while the gun was pointed at the Canadian. Matthew was already turning pale while Kristy was tearing up in fear.

"Put the gun down," Arthur ordered. "Whatever dispute you have with the lady and young man, using a firearm and threatening people is a crime."

"Like hell I would! I already made up my mind and you fucking bastard aren't gonna stop me!" Juan shouted, pointing the gun at the British man.

Now, even Francis got up, " _Escusez moi_ , _monsier_. You need to calm down and think rantionally."

"You!" The tan man glared daggers at the French man in recognition. "You're that french bastard!"

"J-Juan, please! D-do what he says," Kristy begged. She knew that Juan had some screw loose, but she never expected for him to be this insane. If she knew that dating him would turn out like this, then she wished she never dated him in the first place.

"SHUT UP, BITCH! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" Juan turned back to the girl, fury and desperation in his eyes. "IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A SLUT THEN I WOULDN'T BE DOING THIS!"

"Don't blame her for your crazy action!" Matthew cut in. "It's not her fault you went insane and brought a gun. She wanted to end it with you and move on, but you're a stubborn asshole who just can't let her go!"

"SHUT UP!"

_BANG!_

The gun went off and Matthew Williams fell backwards into the cabinets behind him. His violet eyes were wide with shock and the life in those gaze were gone. Blood streamed down his face from the hole located on his forehead.

"… Aaaa….aaaAAAAAHHHHH!" Kristy screamed out in horror.

"MATTIE!" Something inside the American snapped and saw nothing but red. "YOU SHOT MY BROTHER! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!"

The furious American tried to pounce on the shooter, but Ivan grabbed him from behind before he could murder the man.

"LET ME GO, COMMIE! FUCKING LET ME GO!" Alfred thrashed like crazy, trying to get out of the Russian's grip.

At the same time, Arthur, Kiku, and Ludwig went for the shooter. The Japanese sent a sweep kick, knocking the man backwards. Next, Ludwig came in and neck-locked the guy to keep him down. Then lastly, Arthur went for the gun by twisting the man's wrist to make him let go.

"It's over. Give up," Arthur ordered, holding the gun in his hand to keep it away from the mad shooter.

Francis, who was frozen from watching the Canadian get shot point blank in the head, finally broke out from his daze and ran to the said boy to check on him. Fear and panic overcame the French when he saw what was behind the counter.

There was blood… too much blood…

"LET ME KILL THE BASTARD! HE SHOT MATTIE! I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL HIM!" Alfred continued to shout and thrash around while Ivan took great effort to keep the American at bay.

"Calm down, stupid hot-headed American!" Ivan growled in frustration. He was starting to lose his grip of the boy. The Russian knew that the American had more strength then what he showed back at the museum, but he didn't expect it to be this strong. Ivan knew that if he didn't hold down this furious American, this man would kill someone.

"A-Arthur!" Francis called out in a desperate and broken voice. " _Mattheau_ , 'e's not breathing and the blood von't stop flowing. I can't feel 'is pulse!"

"No… no no no no, not Matthew… Oh my god… Matthe…" Kristy suddenly fainted from shock.

"Kristy!" Francis caught her in his arms in time. "Kristy! Kristy!"

"Call the police and an ambulance," Arthur turned to Feliciano.

"Eep! R-right!" Feliciano squeaked and quickly pulled out his phone, nearly dropping it a few times from panic. "What's dhe emergency number 'ere?"

"America is 911," Arthur answered.

The Italian quickly dialed the number.

"DAMN IT! FUCKING DAMN IT! HE SHOT MATTIE! LET ME FUCKING KILL HIM! NOBODY HURTS MATTIE AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!" Alfred continued to fight the Russian's grip.

"ALFRED F. JONES!" Arthur shouted to get the American's attention, which miraculously worked. The young man had stopped struggling, but he still stared at the British with anger. "You are killing nobody! Calm down and listen. The police are already on the way and we need to take care of—"

"Wait, the police!?" Alfred's emotion quickly turned from anger to fear as he realized what he heard. If the police came when Matthew wakes up from his temporary death, then shit would really hit the fan. "Shit… SHIT!"

In a rush of panic, Alfred broke out of the Russian's hold by head butting the man right into his chin. The force of the impact caused Ivan to loosen his grip and took a step backwards from the force. Alfred took this chance to turn and punched him right in the face.

_Crash!_

The Russian was sent crashing into the wall, creating a crack on the hard surface.

Several eyes grew wide with disbelief and bewilderment at what they just witness. How was it possible for a normal human being send a nation flying into a wall!? Not just any nation, but Russia!

In their moment of shock, Alfred jumped over the counter, knocking the cashier and other items onto the floor with a loud clatter. He knelt down to pick up his brother's lifeless body, ignoring the blood stains on his clothes and face.

"What the bloody hell!? Alfred, what are you doing?" Arthur demanded as the American held his brother in his arms before dashing into the kitchen.

" _Sacre bleu!_ " The French exclaimed. "Vhere are you taking Matthieu?!"

"Alfred?! ALFRED! Where the bloody hell are you going!?" Arthur ran after the boy. The British nation was beyond confused as he tried to understand what just happened. Alfred, a young American human boy, just knocked out Ivan with one punch and ran out with his brother's corpse in his arm!

When he entered the kitchen, he spotted the back door was opened, so the British nation darted towards it and found himself at the back alley behind the cafe. Arthur looked around frantically for the two brothers, but they were nowhere to be found.

What in Merlin's beard was going on!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit has hit the fans. Alfred is on the run with his brother's lifeless body in his arms and the nations are confused as hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a feedback or comment.
> 
> Thanks to rainsonata for proofreading


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